Shooting Stars and Setting Suns
by unbidden16
Summary: Samantha is one of the lucky few human beings gifted with the knowledge that life does indeed live out amongst the stars, but also amongst the humans as friends and protectors. Sequel to 'All the Stars in the Sky'. Please read the previous installation.
1. Chapter 1: The Act of Bonding

**Chapter One: The Act of Bonding**

Standing outside a series of hangers within the Nevada desert one might see more than just military vehicles parked amongst the buildings. Indeed, one might find a large, custom Peterbilt semi-truck or perhaps even a Pontiac Solstice sitting unsuspectingly beside an Abram's tank. The militant men and women too seemed nonplussed over the supped-up vehicles.

What attained folks' attention was the swirling dust cloud growing steadily closer to the outer gates of the base.

Within and just slightly ahead of said whirlwind was a 2010 Chevy Camaro as yellow as the Sun with twin racing stripes. Parked in the driver's seat of said Camaro was a hooting teenager, her hair braided back to keep the wind flowing in from the downed windows from repeatedly tossing her hair into her face at the dangerous speeds with which the Camaro was moving. Occasionally her hands would make contact with the wheel for support, but as nobody was around besides the base inhabitants for many miles she allowed her car to show his true colors.

She could feel the excitement rolling off in literal waves from Bumblebee through their bond. It was apparent that he had been itching to truly get the speed he so craved after being confined to either a driveway or parking lot for a little over a week. After they had ditched the main roads she had dropped her hands, a clear signal to the Autobot that he had free reign once more.

"Floor it, Bee." She'd whispered to her friend's dash. In response the radio clicked on to 'Drive' by Alan Jackson. She got barely a single note of laughter out before she was pressed back into the driver's seat with the force of the Camaro's take-off.

They'd gone off-roading for three hours before they finally pulled up to the base. At the gates Bumblebee idled beside the 'valet soldier' as Sam preferred to refer to him as. The soldier grinned widely as he took in the now familiar vibrant sports car as well as her. Every soldier had been introduced to her upon their transfer over into the Autobot's sector of the government and been informed that she was considered a vital member of the team. Many wondered how she, a civilian, could matter so much to the Autobots, but no one offered them any explanations and no one had the courage to ask. They were only expected to follow orders.

The valet smiled brightly at her. "Hello Samantha, Bumblebee."

"Hey." She waved the digits of her right hand at him in a subdued wave. "How've they been?"

"Curious as always." The valet waved the gates open, a clear sign that they were cleared. "Apparently the internet can't cover everything."

Sam laughed a little as Bumblebee rolled through towards one of the larger hangers, the one assigned to the Autobots. The valet was correct; the internet didn't cover everything despite what people might think. The internet gave factual information, it gave off 'logical data', but sometimes the 'bots needed explanations on emotions and thought processes based upon a certain idea. It was with the explanations that they tended to fit in better and not sound quite as 'superior', ancient, and advanced as they were.

A wide smile stretched across her face at the thought of Jazz. That was one mech, the Cybertronian equivalent of a 'male', that could adopt nuances quickly. A few times since their arrival she had all but forgotten that he wasn't human, if it weren't for his sheer size and metallic body. He had adopted a city accent and generally acted more like a 'ganster' than a saboteur for an alien army. The only 'bot she knew that was more adept at adopting mannerisms than he was Bumblebee and that was because he was a scout.

Bumblebee rolled to a smooth stop outside of the Autobot hanger before popping the door open. She unlocked her seatbelt, something that she wasn't permitted to go without wearing within any of the Autobots for fear of being buckled in till the end of time, and darted out. Once clear a few feet from the disguised Camaro she turned to look at him. A frown marred her face.

"Don't change over." She ordered easily, a crease in her brows. A wave of curiosity hit her from her Guardian. A chuckle emanated from low in her throat. "Nothing bad, Bee. It's just that you're extremely dirty."

It was true. His normal honeybee yellow sides were caked with a layer of dust and sand thick enough that she could draw discernable pictures in them. Even his racing stripes were all but hidden in spots under the sheet of evidence proclaiming their earlier fun.

A wicked smile pulled at her lips as she began to walk backwards towards the hanger.

"Just wait there for a minute, Bee. We're going to try something and I'm pretty sure that you're going to like it." Leaving her Guardian alone outside, his curiosity still ringing through their bond she hurried into the hanger.

She hurried through the hanger while waving to various soldiers that stopped to salute her. That was the one thing she disliked about this whole mess…or at least one of the things. With how the Autobots treated her, Will Lennox and Rob Epps had jokingly called her 'Aphrodite', named after the Greek goddess of fertility, sexuality, and beauty. Unfortunately after this one exclamation of the nickname everyone had become absurdly aware of everything that went on between her and the 'bots. They could read the connection between them all and treated her differently for it.

'Different' translated to 'superior'.

Sam hated it when people deferred to her. Sure she could understand that maybe before they talked to the Autobots that they didn't want to look like idiots and therefore asked her for emotional support, but to have them practically clinging to her throughout their conversation? No, she didn't appreciate that. They always looked to her as if they were afraid that the 'bots were going to step on them if they said something wrong.

In a little more than a month that Sam had come to know the Autobots, she had come to find that besides infinite patience, they had a great capacity for understanding and especially directed towards her affection. She'd never felt any grudge-like feeling from the Autobots towards any of the soldiers, though once or twice there had been a twinge of annoyance.

"What's crackin', lil femme?"

The bass words made her freeze in her steps and whirl with a smile to the silver mech gaining on her from one side of the hanger. Once Jazz reached her, an easy feat within a few strides for him, he crouched down and ran an almost claw-like finger over her back. This was the most common contact she got from the 'bots besides being picked up in private and hugged to chest plates they called chassis or spark chambers.

"Nothing much." Her eyes moved around before she pursed her lips. "Hey Jazz, do you know where the soldiers would keep the hoses, buckets, and rags? I know I've seen them bring them in here since they also store the military vehicles in this hanger."

"Pretty sure I saw 'em take 'em int'a the store room ova by the tank."

"Oh, okay." She waved to him before running off for the single tank that had been transferred to the base to be outfitted with the proper saber rounds.

"What'cha doin'?" Jazz asked as he walked behind her.

That was another thing about the 'bots that she and the other humans had come to become familiar with. Whenever she was around she turned into an 'Autobot magnet'. Even Optimus didn't seem to be immune to her particular charms. The 'bots followed her around unconsciously like lost puppies. She was the only one who understood, though, that they did it for more than one reason. Besides feeding off of whatever residual Allspark energy she was unwittingly accessing, they were still learning from her. Just as she was so comfortable with them, they felt the same with her. They learned to be human, so to speak, from being around her most of the time.

"I'm going to introduce an aspect of human culture to Bee." She glanced over her shoulder to give the silver mech a once-over. A smirk pulled at her lips. "Maybe you'll want to try it after him." The same curiosity emitted off of Jazz's bond that had slithered off of Bee's. She laughed, but said nothing more to appease the 'bot.

Sam rummaged through the storage room until she found what she was looking for. When she emerged she waved Jazz's hand down. "You carry this for me please." She ordered gently as she swung the hose over her shoulder. "Just take them out and set them beside Bumblebee. I need to hook this hose up."

She proceeded Jazz from the hanger and snapped the hose into the nozzle outside. Glancing over her shoulder she could see Bumblebee shifting on his axels as if nervous, just like a human would totter from foot to foot. Once again she was awed by the 'bots abilities to mimic the humans they were hiding amongst.

"Calm down, Bee." Sam laughed as she pulled her tank-top off leaving her in only her black and pink training shorts and pale pink bathing-suit top that she wore frequently during the summer when she was always swimming, running, or dancing. It was easier to just keep wearing it than to run around like a chicken with its' head cut off to keep putting it back on only after taking it off. "I'm not about to torture you. None of the items I've chosen could cause enough damage for that."

Jazz chuckled from where he sat with his back against the wall nearby. Sam shot him a glorious smile before filling the bucket he'd set beside Bumblebee with water. Once that was settled she held up the hose and aimed it for the Camaro.

Bumblebee slid backwards out of the arch of water flow causing Sam to cock her hand on her hip and purse her lips. "Where do you think you're going?" She asked with a mock-stern voice.

Without preamble the radio clicked on in Bumblebee's favorite fashion to communicate. Rihanna's 'Disturbia' echoed seamlessly through the speakers, a sound system that superseded any human technology by lifetimes.

_A disease of the mind,_

_It can control you,_

_It's too close for comfort._

"Are you calling me crazy?" She screeched with a mixture of disbelief and humor. She lunged forward at the same time as she slatted her finger over the flow of water to increase the pressure. "I'll show you crazy you overgrown blow-dryer."

She boomed with laughter as Bumblebee clicked, clattered, and squealed when frigid water made contact with his frame. Even Jazz chuckled from where he sat, both of them knowing full well that the scout was just putting on an amusing front. All of the Autobots had rolls that they slid into when amongst humans, disguises beyond their physical forms that helped to both ease said humans and themselves from what she'd felt from them. It was strange, but adopting a 'human' attitude seemed to distract the Autobots and not make them feel as strained as they would under 'normal' circumstances.

"It's called a car wash, Bumblebee." Sam explained as she rinsed most of the dirt and sand off of his bright yellow paint. "I know that you all have probably seen it and read up on it on the net, but from what I understand none of you have ever experienced it. So, congratulations Bumblebee, you're the first guinea pig."

"First?" He questioned in his true voice, the one lilted with a British accent.

"Yes, first." She reaffirmed while swirling the pulsing water around his rims. "I'm thinking that I might try this out on the others some time if they want. Goodness knows you guys are forever getting yourselves dented and dirtied. At least now when you're getting cleaned there's a bonding process."

"How's this bondin'?" Jazz queried lightly, his head cocked in a curious manner.

"I know that you've seen the soldiers clean their vehicles, Jazz." She giggled, switching to the other side of the stationary Camaro. "This is just the primary rinse. Afterwards I'll use the sponge with the soapy water and then a waxing. You all are very tactile when it comes to me and in this case I'll be the one initiating the gesture. Besides, I'd like to think of this as you guys' own personal message, only on a far lighter scale."

"A Cybertronian message?" Jazz chuckled as his raised one knee to drape an arm over it. "Yer one strange human, Samantha." In retribution she whirled the hose onto him and splattered his chest plates with the cold water.

"Don't go taunting the one human who can truly stand all of your antics, boy." She jeered. If he could roll his optic she knew that he would have. Early on in their relationship she would taunt the 'bots by calling them by her chosen nicknames for them. Jazz was 'boy'. Optimus was 'Big Guy'. Ratchet was 'Doc'. Bumblebee was 'Bee'. Ironhide tended to get a gleam in his terribly blue optics when she called him 'Cujo'.

Jazz remained silent as she switched from rinsing Bumblebee to running the soaped sponge over his frame. When she arched over his hood she felt his engine growl under her chest and stomach making her laugh.

The song that flicked on in the cab caused her to flop fully onto the hood and give up his cleaning in favor of rib cracking laughter.

"You're horrible to me!" She cried once she was able to regain herself enough to make cognitive speech. "You don't play 'I'm In Love With A Stripper' to someone doing you a favor. And I'm not a stripper!" She slapped his hood and huffed, turning her back on her Guardian.

She wasn't mad at him, not in the slightest. Beside the fact that they were a different race from separate planets, the nanites coursing through her bloodstream having no meaning in relationship to each other, Cybertronians had no genders. They had a general idea of mech and femme relating more to physical appearances and chosen mannerisms, but their internal mechanizations were entirely alike. Mechs didn't have a respective male penis and Femmes didn't have a respective female uterus. Sam had to smirk when she recalled that particular lesson she and Mike had been made privy to when the jock had become curious and asked Ratchet. So logically there was no understandable way for any of the Autobots to hit on her.

Bumblebee played the role of repentant child by chirping behind her and rolling slowly up into her calves, gently nudging her. She jerked her chin up and huffed. A high pitched whine sounded through the air and it was Jazz that spoke up first.

"Please, forgive 'im your royal Highness." Jazz laughed.

"Dang straight I'm your royal Highness." Sam flicked her braid in a high-handed manner, her nose raised high. She took on an English accent to enhance her act. "This foolish naïve has insulted my honor. Were it but my kingdom I would have him beheaded for his impudence."

This time Bumblebee's own faint laughter joined with Jazz's. After another few moments she looked over her shoulder and smiled at the Camaro she had come to see as her best friend in the world. Turning on the balls of her feet she patted his hood softly.

"Fine then, you big baby. I forgive you."

She made the best of the rest of Bee's wash, laughing when he played certain sound bytes or dancing when hip-grinding song rolled through the air. Jazz kept her talking, asking various questions about human culture that she took for granted. She'd answer as best she could and elaborate more when asked.

By the time she was done with Bee's wash, wax and all, he was completely content. She could feel his pleasure through the bond they shared. She hadn't felt any Allspark energy overflowing into him, but judging by the completely sated waved flowing through their bond she had no doubt that it had happened. She gave his fender a fond caress before setting her sights onto Jazz. An indulgent grin found its way onto her lips at the eagerness she felt through her and the saboteur's bond.

"Would you like a wash, too, Jazz?" She queried, not even needing to hear a verbal response to know that he did.

In answer Jazz shifted down into his terrestrial disguise that was a Pontiac Solstice. With a lighthearted chuckle she went to work on Jazz as well, taking great delight in the soft music he chose to play for her.

She was just finishing off on Jazz when the curiosity buzzing through the bonds that extended to the three others drew them like moths to a flame. Ironhide, Ratchet, and Optimus Prime came to stand in all their glory beside where Bumblebee and Jazz had settled. She could feel their smiles as they looked down onto her and their comrades.

"Howdy." She cheered, flicking the damp drying cloth over her shoulder.

"Hello, Sam." Ironhide eased out. Her heart warmed at his soft tones. The gruff soldier wasn't as hard as nails as he seemed. While he could be a hard-ass and acted that way most of the time, Ironhide had a real soft spot for those he considered his friends. She had a suspicion that he considered her more than just a friend, just as she was something more to all of them as they were more than friends to her, and she held a special place in his spark even this early on in their relationship.

Sometimes she found herself humbled to be around them. Unlike the other humans that were skittish around the giants that could literally kill them by taking one wrong step she was awed to be around them. Even being the youngest Bumblebee was thousands of years old. They were like tangent Gods in so many ways, yet they were not afraid to learn. They were born to protect as much as they were built to fight. No matter what happened, Sam knew that she would never regret ever meeting the Autobots.

"So, would you guys like to see what the whole new rage is?" She gestured towards the sated sports cars. "I think that I zonked those two out quite well."

"Jazz commed me before he indulged in this." Ratchet stepped forward, a jovial note ringing through their bond. "Quite frankly I could use your particular brand of 'bonding'."

"Then transform away." She looked over Ratchet's slowly changing form to grin at the remaining two. "You two can join as well if you want after I get done with Ratchet. No favors required. Just consider it a friends' benefit."

Sure enough, every one of them was devolved into their terrestrial guises before she had even started on Ratchet's wash. They all conversed easily, some of the soldiers passing through lending an ear when asked. Samantha tried to encourage the other humans to interact with the Autobots more, knowing that she wouldn't always be around to make them feel more comfortable. Will and Rob came out once after she had finished with Ironhide to remark on her excellent work and hand her some hotdogs they snuck out of the mess hall.

All three of them snorted and rolled their eyes when Ratchet remarked on the unhealthy choice of foods they made as a whole. Sam pitied them all when the medic finally figured out all of the ins and outs to human physiology and anatomy. Ole Ratchet was intent on becoming not only the chief medic for the 'bots, but humans as well.

He was hoping for another one of the Autobots to come in, one named Wheeljack, Preceptor, or Hound, that would have the files needed to update their holograms to holoforms, a somewhat physical and tangible form that they could manifest. A nearly indiscernible shudder ran through her at the mere thought of having the medic acting as doctor to not only the other humans but to her…oh no!

Wasn't it enough that the 'bots shadowed her every move already? If Ratchet got his hands on that holoform program then that was going to be the proverbial nail in her coffin. She'd be upgraded from Autobot teddy-bear to Cybertronian magnet. She could say goodbye to whatever fragile hold she had on a normal life.

Optimus took the longest of any of them, but she wouldn't accept help. She figured that they guys deserved it and she was their friend. She wasn't going to do them the discourtesy of passing on the chore of cleaning them to another. They deserved better than that. By the time she had finished with the Peterbilt she was thoroughly wiped out.

With a deep sigh she settled back against the wall of the Autobot's hanger. Her eyes raked over the forms of her alien friends. She let herself fall into the contented feelings flowing to her from them and soon found her eyes drooping.

With a yawn her head lolled back and she slipped into a blissful sleep, taking pleasure in the fact that it was the weekend and she'd get to stay at the base until Sunday night when she'd have to return home.

So submerged into her sleep that she didn't notice when the 'bots transformed to their bipedal modes and circled her. In their own way they smiled, though their face plates could not express the emotion they were all feeling as clearly as their bond could with their human.

Bumblebee maneuvered careful fingers under her tiny form. He was infinitely gentle with their human, knowing almost instinctually deep within his processors how to touch this fragile being. He cupped his hands behind her too tiny back before holding her to his warmed chassis where his spark thrummed beneath. Its power reached out and caressed her as surely as her own power, the one they had all begun to think was more than just raw Allspark energy, embraced his. The others pulsed their own sparks strongly to add their own individual touches to their precious burden.

In the too short time that they had known Samantha Jane Witwicky, they had all come to care for her a great deal. Even before becoming the conduit for the Allspark's power they had connected with her on some basic level that superseded even their most basic programming.

Sam was special to them in numerous ways and they were quickly coming to the conclusion that any harm that might come to her would impact them detrimentally.

Bumblebee carried Samantha into the hanger and settled her as softly as he was able onto the sofa that some of the humans had brought in that she frequented while visiting. Jazz flicked a blanket over her smoothly as he pulled away. Sam mumbled once in her sleep before turning her face into the cushions and snuggling under the blankets.

Oh yes, they were all very attached to their little human.

* * *

**Note:** This is the sequel to **_'All the Stars in the Sky'_**. These chapters will be a series of one-shots that center around Samantha and her building relationship with the Autobots as well as her learning to utilize the power of the Allspark. Keep in mind that I intend to lead this all up to the second movie of which I have written a version of my own that correlates to my first piece as well as these one-shots.

Also, I intend to give everyone my view on how the other Autobots arrived and why Sunstreaker is missing from the second movie. I ask you to be patient and wait for that particular chapter to arise. There will be roughly twelve chapters to this story. Some chapters will be emotional and some will be centered more on the friendship aspect of their lives.

I ask to have eight reviews before I post my next chapter. To any that have read my previous book, thank you for your support and continued reading. To any that have just stumbled across this story, I ask that you read my previous story to better understand this one. Feel free to point out any of my mistakes or criticize so long as it is within the bounds of rationality and not written with cuss words directed towards me or any other readers. I would like any and all feedback even if it is just to say that you do or do not enjoy the piece.

Thank you for reading and enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Transformers.


	2. Chapter 2: Out To The Movies

**Chapter Two: Out To The Movies**

Samantha shifted the cell phone that had been given to her by the government as a replacement for the one lost in the initial transformation of Bumblebee and tweaked by Ratchet to have unlimited reception anywhere in the world in order to shut and lock the door behind her. She was adept at cradling a cell phone on her shoulder in order to work with her hands. She'd made dinner enough nights to know how to handle a business call for her father while cooking. The down-comforter under her arm and side bag draped over her opposite side were nothing to hoot about, but what they were to be used for had a wide smile breaking across her face.

"Do you promise to get inside if it gets too cold?" Her mother whined with maternal worry.

"Yes, Momma." Sam rolled her eyes at her mother's meddlesome checklist. Ever since she first started walking on her own her mother had gotten in the habit of reciting a checklist to ensure her only baby's safety. She understood and accepted that such actions showed her mother's loved for her, but it did get annoying after a time.

"I just want you to be safe, honey." Judy Witwicky explained tersely, hearing her daughter's own exasperation. "What if there's one of those nasty Deceptiscum out there? They could take you away and hurt you. They could do so many…"

"Momma!" Sam laughed as she walked into the garage where an anxious Bumblebee sat rocking on his axels. "It's Decepti_cons_, not Decepti_scum_." Bee chirped with Cybertronian laughter at the turn of phrase. "And besides, Bee promises to take good care of me. Don't you, Bee?"

After a brief moment of hacking Sam knew that Bumblebee managed to tap into their phone conversation. There was no need for the booming voice he was capable of with his ability to crack into any electronic conveyance. "Samantha is right, Mrs. Witwicky. Nothing endangering will ever happen to Sam as long as the other Autobots and I are present."

_Clever little bug. _Sam smirked inwardly. He had carefully phrased his response to her mother to ensure her that in the Autobots' company she would come to no harm. That said nothing about if she wandered off by herself, something that every single 'bot had engrained into her mind not to do. The few times she had allowed herself out of their sensor ranges she had come back to fuming metal giants. None of them were averse to lecturing her about not taking her own safety into consideration. Never mind that they would be able to feel it if she was in any sort of trouble through their bonds, they still preferred her to be in their sights.

Despite them all being so close to each other, the whole coddling was beginning to stretch her to her limits. Sam was half convinced that the kings and queens of old weren't treated as well as she was. She was rarely out of physical contact with any one of the 'bots, always monitored through their bonds, and pampered as best they could manage with their sheer size. Too many times she found herself being spoiled and getting whatever she asked for whenever she asked for it.

"Well you just make sure of that, Bumblebee. And you know that I told you to call me Judy. Mrs. Witwicky makes me feel so old." Her mother grumbled over the line in their three-way phone conversation. "I don't want to have to have a repeat of when we were first…ah, introduced."

Sam could remember that day. She was still beaten raw from her fall from the building in Mission city as well as the fight out on the streets when she was permitted to return home. Bumblebee had transformed for her parents to show them the truth of what had happed to her. After the initial shock her mother had become enraged at being hauled off in the middle of the night by Sector Seven, blamed Bumblebee, and started batting for fifty on his shins with Sam's old titanium bat from the years of lassie-league softball. Sam could still recall her laughter as she used the Allspark's power to work the few dents out that her swings had managed to make. Cybertronian metal was stronger than any Earth metal, so Sam was infinitely proud of her mother for making even that small amount of damage to the alien robot even if a Decepticon would have been far more deserving of the torture.

"I promise, Judy. Samantha will remain safe within my care." Bee assured the elder female Witwicky. Sam patted his bonnet before making room for Bee to pop the door open for her. She'd come to find early on that the Autobots had researched chivalry well. Rarely did she ever have to open her own door. They would do it for her.

"See, Mom. Bumblebee's got it handled. Besides, Jazz is going too. How much trouble can I really get into with two Autobots looking after me?" As soon as she asked the question she made herself catch up to rephrase. "Don't answer that. Please, Mom. Even if you don't trust the big alien robots, can you at least trust me?"

The deep throated sigh from the other end of the line said it all. "Just be safe."

"I will, Momma. I'll be home late tonight. Mike and the 'bots are going to be watching the second showing with me, too. Do you want me to leave a text on your phone saying that I got back home all right?"

"You know I do. I love you, honey."

"I love you, too, Mom. Bye."

"Bye, honey."

With that they ended their call. Sam slid her vibrant green phone shut and smiled down at the open door. "Why thank you, kind sir." She cooed to her car before tossing the blanket and bag into the back seats.

"Let's go, bee." She spoke cheerily as she used the remote control button the raise the garage door. "We promised Mike that we'd meet him up at his house at eight. Do you know where Jazz is at exactly?" She could feel that he was near, but her Cybertronian locating skills were still touch and go. She could point in which direction a thread of consciousness led her, but she couldn't yet compound the intensity of the bonds into general distances. All she knew was that if any of the 'bots decided to play hide and seek, she'd have an unfair advantage…well, besides the 'they're too big to hide behind anything' bit.

"_T-minus three minutes and counting._" Some automated voice stolen from a classic sci-fi film played through Bee's speakers.

"Then we have just enough time to beat him." Sam smirked as the garage door shut behind them. "What do you say to a little added zip to our zoom to beat that knockoff dragster to Mike's."

In answer Sam felt the seatbelt whiplash itself over her chest, pinning her to the seat, and heard the rev of Bumblebee's powerful engine. She squealed with delight as the tires left black scorch marks into the road behind them.

* * *

Somewhere on the way to Mike's house, Jazz was informed on their little one-sided race. Sam had very little doubt that Bee had ratted them out as an excuse to drive even faster. One perk of having an Autobot as your own personal chauffeur was their innate ability to disable any radars they were near and detect them even sooner. No matter how many times Sam let her friend 'take the wheel' and he showed the true meaning behind the well loved term 'fast and furious' she never once received a speeding ticket.

Thinking on it she had never even been permitted to speed while she was the one driving. Unless they were out in the desert Bee never let her get too far over the speed limit. In fact, if she exceeded ten even on the deserted highways he'd slow her back down.

The stinker.

As it was, Bee made record time in reaching Michael's house. Unfortunately, Jazz made it to the jock's place faster. Sam released her seatbelt once stopped, barely even acknowledging the laughing jock, and stuck her tongue out at the Pontiac. "You cheated!" She glared mockingly at the sleek silver sports car.

When her cell phone pinged off that she had a text message she slipped it out of her pocket and read the screen. She crinkled her nose at the words displayed there.

'_You were the one that didn't intend to tell me that I was even contending against you._'

"You're so nitpicky." She teased with a roll of her eyes. Bumblebee chirped with laughter even as she felt Jazz give an emotional roll of his eyes. Affection still washed over her from both 'bots, so she knew that they were in on the game.

"If we're done playing games, children?" Mike put on a mock-stern voice.

"Sowry Daddy." She puffed out her lips in imitation of a petulant child. "May we go to the movies now?" Sam asked in a toddler's voice, her right foot kicking lightly on the paving of his driveway.

"Wait until your mother hears about how bad a girl you've been." He waggled his finger at her even as Jazz popped open a door for him to put his own blanket into the passenger seat of the two-person Pontiac.

"You are _no_ fun." Sam cried indignant as a laugh threatened to overtake her.

Inwardly she was beaming. She and Mike had had a heck of a lot of fun teaching the Autobots about their little role-playing games. They had been confused at first as to why the humans around them would sometimes seem to slip into different attitudes and mannerisms as they did, but after a bit of turnabout even the Autobots grew to like their playing. The younger the 'bot was, the easier it was to get them to play along, but all of them enjoyed toying with her and Mike. Ironhide had been the most difficult to get to play along, but Sam felt through their bond that he genuinely enjoyed them the most. Playing with them and letting them play made him feel 'light at spark' and halfway forget that they were in a war.

"Did you bring your Bluetooth?" She asked Mike before either of them slipped into their respective vehicles. Mike patted his jeans pocket with a smirk as confirmation. "Alrighty then, let's go. You boys are turning over the wheel to us for this one."

As she slid into Bumblebee she popped her own Bluetooth into her ear.

Mike allowed for her to pull Bumblebee out first and lead them off to the next town where the old drive-in sat. Sam had brought the idea up to Mike one night over their MSN accounts after watching a new horror film in the theaters in Mission City. At first he'd laughed, but then slowly come to see her reasoning behind wanting to take the 'bots out to the drive-in.

At the hanger at the base Sam had collected a few bits of furniture and a television set that she and Mike often used to play Wii on or watch other movies. When the 'bots heard about human films, they referenced them, not actually watching the films themselves. When one of the 'bots would lounge around behind her sofa while a movie was playing at the base they actually tuned in. More often than not they began asking questions about why certain actions were taking place or where humans got their 'depraved organic processor glitches', as Ironhide liked to joke, better known as ideas. Quite often she and Mike were cracking up with the naivety of the Autobots in general to human nature. Mike seemed awed by her infinite patience with them, willing to teach them whatever they wanted to know whenever they wanted to know it. Once again her role as Aphrodite reared its head.

In minutes she was pulling up to the building with the ticket booths on either side. She handed the woman both she and Mike's admission, making sure the woman knew that the Pontiac and driver behind her were admitted to the movies. Sam beamed as she peered through the windshield up at the massive white screen.

She found a spot near the middle of the large parking area set before the screen and settled Bumblebee onto the slight manmade knoll. Mike maneuvered the tiny sports car that was Jazz into the space beside Bumblebee and the two radio boxes on either side of them. The vintage boxes were still working, the power lines to the radios coursing through the metal stands and under the ground to the main building behind them that was both the concession stand, ticket booth, and film booth. The Jullington Drive-In was well known for its showings of old films as well as new ones. She and Mike had decided to come on a night that one of the older films were playing.

It was their own version of the Rocky Horror Picture Shows.

"What was showing again?" Mike asked as he disembarked from Jazz, pulling his blanket along with him.

"'Bridges of Madison County' and 'Sabrina'." Sam called out cheerfully as she hopped out of Bumblebee. Michael snorted as he fanned the blanket out in front of the two Autobots, keeping in mind to leave the space clear where other cars drove upon to line up their own vehicles.

"Figures that you'd bring them to watch romance films." Came the classic male _and_ jock retort. Samantha rolled her eyes.

"Oh yeah, like your new horror films are any better!" She shot back with a laugh, flicking her blanket out over top of Mike's. "You know as well as I do that these two movies would be easier to explain to them because they're more realistic. Your horror films just give them misconstrued ideas about the human mind and make them all paranoid."

Righteous indignation flowed through her bonds with the Camaro and Pontiac. She smirked back to the two parked cars.

"It is absolutely true and you know it." She chuckled. After thinking for just a second she winced. "You do remember when Ratchet walking in on us watching Ghost Adventures a few weeks ago, right?" Her response was Michael's equally disturbed shutter. "Yeah…you _do_ remember. We both survived Mission City and there we were jerking like scared little children while watching a few idiots taunting ghosts. Besides the fact that the Doc scolded us for making ourselves terrified he also convinced the others that we were in need of 'increased analysis' for believing in ghosts."

Sam was bothered a little by that. Why was it so hard for the 'bots to believe that humans could have an afterlife where they still roamed the earth when she herself had held onto Jazz's 'soul' when his body had been taken out of commission? They were a semi logic-based species, but some of what they lived by was nonsensical at best. They themselves were impossible beings, powered by a foreign energy supply that lasted human lifetimes and a soul contained for the most part within a glowing mechanical heart. Heck, if anyone was to get technical, humans were just as impossible.

Once the blankets were settled, Sam made herself comfortable under the top-most sheet and tugged her bag of goodies closer.

"Whatcha bring, chicky?" Mike waggled his eyebrows jokingly as he too set himself up under the sheet, wise enough to leave at least a little space between them. Though she didn't jerk as often around men, at least ones that she was now familiar with, she still had trouble with intimate contact and invasion of her space. Only the 'bots seemed able to fully break her of her avoidance habit.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she could feel their emotions?

"Reeses, Kit-Kats, Popcorn, Twizzlers, and plenty of orange soda." The jock laughed as he stole the bag of popcorn from her backpack and a soda.

"You're a dancer and a girl, aren't you supposed to watch what you eat?"

"Heck no." She giggled, popping a Twizzlers into her mouth. "I love my junk food and I train enough to keep the fat off. Besides, it's not like I can eat this all the time. You know that Ratchet's been studying the human anatomy and the things we eat. I have little doubt that in a few months I'm going to be trying to smuggle Cheetos and Twinkies onto the base because some psycho medic decided that soy beans, vegetables, and wheat bread are our new best friends."

Mike didn't retort. She could guess the reason. She'd spent many any idle minute wondering on the 'diet' that Ratchet would most likely force upon them for their own health once he figured everything out. While she generally did eat healthy, she wasn't going to give up any of her junk food for anybody…a twenty-some foot tall alien doctor's orders or not.

If she was going to be playing the part of the new Allspark, she'd be damned if she wasn't going to have at least a few perks…a choice in her diet included.

She and Mike discussed inane things until the Sun set beyond the horizon, all the cars that were going to parade through the drive-in gates did, and the first film of the evening began to play through the building behind them and project upon the massive white screen.

Sam patted Bumblebee's Chevy insignia fondly before gesturing to her Bluetooth. In second a completely illegal call was patched through the headset of both hers and Mike's Bluetooths. Any Cybertronian worth his alloy was able to hack into the electronic waves that passed through cell phones, laptops, and wireless devices as easily as a full grown man could pick up a marshmallow from the kitchen counter. While they could also call to the phone, by hacking through an already present signal neither of the two humans would be stuck with an outrageous phone bill and no traces could ever be detected.

Not for the first time Sam couldn't help but think that Cybertronian technology was a marvel.

"Hope you guys like the movies." She smiled as she watched the intro credits run across the screen. "Maybe some other time we'll bring you on out to a newer movie and I'll even let Mike pick it."

"Not'in' could be worse than dat movie about them rednecks up in da hills." Jazz's city drawl crept through their Bluetooths at the same time like universal walky-talkies. "Da Hatchet has a right ta be worried about ya wit' those images. I don' have a stomach like ya do an' I still nearly voided my tanks when I watched those scenes."

"Oh come on." Mike chuckled, popping a hand full of popcorn into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, ever the gentleman, before speaking again. "It wasn't that bad. 'The Hills Have Eyes' was a pretty good horror film, all things considered."

Sam smacked his nose with a Twizzler. "And _that_ is why I chose the movies this time. You wouldn't know a good movie if it came up and shot you in the butt."

"Yeah, yeah." Michael leaned back into the front of Jazz's fender and smirked. "I'd think that you were trying to seduce me, Miss Witwicky."

"Just so long as you don't cop a feel, Mister Banes, you can think whatever your pretty heart desires."

"Cop a feel?" Jazz asked through the Bluetooth. "I don' understand half of where humans get their phrases. What's dat supposed ta mean?"

"'Cop a feel…well, when police officers are forced to pat you down, that's what they're doing. They're 'feeling you up' for any possible weapons or evidence that they can use against you. It's not usually done with the consent of the one getting frisked and _that_ is was copping a feel is. That sound about right, wonder-boy?"

"Sounds good to me. I think I would have just said that it was someone getting horny and attempting to sneakily brush their fingers across something intimate." Sam had to slap her greasy hands over her mouth to keep the uproarious laughter from lurching from her mouth. They may have been outside, but she didn't want to disturb others watching the movie.

When she had regained herself enough she slapped Mike's arm. Hard.

"Ow! Hey! What did you do that for?" He hissed out as he rubbed at his most likely reddening arm.

"You're being perverted. At least I explained it nicely."

"So did I." He muttered indignantly.

"No, you didn't. You were just being a normal, hormonal teenage male. Explain the source of the term you moron, don't restate what that same term means when they already know it."

Humor washed over her from the Autobots parked behind them. They always got a kick out of when they bickered like the children they were. More often than not they tried to contain their sorrow that they had been the ones that had dragged them out of their 'normal' lives so brutally. She could also feel the underlying guilt that a part of them were glad that they had.

She was becoming increasingly more aware of the fact that the Autobots didn't want to be without her…more than simply because she housed the Allspark's power. They grew more and more attached to her by the day. They were becoming even more conscious of her when she wasn't around, able to trace their bonds back to her and send emotions purposely. When visiting the base she was rarely let off of the perch of a 'bot's shoulder or from their servos, otherwise known as hand, let alone permitted to leave a ten foot vicinity of any given mech. They did everything and anything within their power to keep her healthy, safe, and happy.

That they were doing all of this at all was disconcerting to them. They did feel angered and sorrowful for putting her life in danger and extracting her from her normal life, but he guilt for wishing it no other way just so long as they got to keep her was what was wearing on their processors.

She didn't talk about it with them.

In truth she was half enraged with them for feeling the way they did, for wanting her like they did, but she just couldn't bring herself to truly hate them for it. Despite everything they were the best things to happen to her. Mostly she was just mad at herself for taking refuge in their care and power after trying so hard to essentially destroy their race by annihilating the Allspark.

Samantha found comfort in feeling their emotions towards her…in feeling cherished. She enjoyed the gentle caresses they laid upon her. She also took selfish, sickening pride from their single-minded doting upon her. Though she knew that she would never say it out loud and nor would they, the Autobots held her existence above any other's. Deep, deep down she knew, simply knew that if it came down to it and even without the Allspark no longer within her grasp, the Autobots would forsake the rest of human existence for her own continued survival.

In some very crucial ways they may not have been so different from the Decepticons.

And she prayed to every Supreme Being she knew that the day would never come that any of them would be forced to live with the repercussions of their decision to place her on such a high pedestal.

Sam shivered unconsciously at the thought of that day possibly coming to fruition.

"Sam?" Bumblebee's tentative voice came through the Bluetooth, making her embarrassingly aware of the few tears that had trickled down her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away with the blanket, studiously ignoring the probing, worried gaze Michael sent her way, and then raised her hand behind her to pat the Chevy symbol on the scout's fender. "You are disturbed."

It wasn't a question. He knew it. Both he and Jazz knew it through their bonds. They could read her disquiet through that tumultuous link they shared. Sam shook her head and allowed warmth to flood through her and into them to keep them from fretting overly much over her.

"I'm fine." Her voice cracked at first from her contained sorrow. She cleared her throat and said again that she was fine, happy that the waver was gone. "Just thinking. Just watch the movie. I'll answer everything as best as I can."

She felt their need to question her, to see that she was indeed set to rights, but felt no want to aid them in their probing. The thoughts that she had just had were entirely personal and unsettling, something that she was sure that Mike had most likely already thought about himself at least in some small measure, and did not desire to explore so openly.

No, she would keep her thoughts to herself for now and live in the delusion that just maybe life could be normal, that maybe none of them would be forced to make a decision that they would one day regret.

Stupid though it was, Samantha held onto that delusion as tightly as she could.

* * *

By the end of the second movie Samantha was half asleep on Mike's shoulder. The jock had already slipped into a peaceful sleep with his cheek resting against her skull for support. They might have slept at the drive-in all night if it weren't for the gentle rocking that Bumblebee performed behind her to ease her back into consciousness.

"Huh?" She yawned tiredly.

"The movies are over, Sam." Bumblebee spoke softly through the Bluetooth that hadn't been in use for the past twenty minutes. "It is time that we take you both home, now."

"Oh." She pulled her head gently out from under Mike's and shook his shoulder to rouse him. "Hey, Mike, it's time to go. Wake up."

"What?" He, too, yawned. Sam laughed lightly, fighting back the urge to yawn again. Damn. She knew that those extra training sessions were going to come back and kick her in the butt. Mike's summer program for football, too, was wearing him out. Neither of them was able to stay up much later after sunset due to their tiring schedules.

"Movies are done. We gotta go."

Very druggedly they got the blankets folded back up and the half empty snack backs tucked safely back into her backpack. With hardly anyone left in the drive-in lot no one had to witness to the efforts of both driverless vehicles to keep the two teens from falling to the ground with sleep. Sam could feel their slight amusement at their weariness, but mostly she felt their patient indulgence, allowing them to move at their sedate pace until they were finally ready to leave.

Sam was half surprised when after she'd placed the blanket and backpack in the passenger seat that the driver's side seat thrust forward and down, making plenty of room for her to crawl into the back. She furrowed her brows for a moment, but then shook her head. It didn't really matter. It was well past sunset and if any cop did take notice of them passing they wouldn't be able to tell that the Camaro was driving itself.

With jerky, tired movements she crawled into the back and laid herself across the bench seat. As she pillowed her head into the leather she felt it conforming to her body and making itself more comfortable for her. The center seatbelt slid gently about her horizontal waist before snapping beneath her into the buckle just behind her middle back. She always wondered how the 'bots managed to manipulate their seatbelt like that and chalked it up to magnets. Anything else would be just too headache-inducing to understand.

"Sleep, Sam. I will call your mother and tell her that you fell asleep within me." She smiled a little at the pretty little image that brought to her mind. Bumblebee warmed his interior up so that she would be more than comfortable before pulling out slowly, ever cautious not to disturb her in the slightest.

"Thanks, Bee." She hummed, already drifting off to sleep. "Love you." She mumbled.

"And I love you, too." He purred with his engine, a wash of contentment and peace caressed not only their bond, but Jazz's as well. The love they felt for each other may not have been sexual, but the unconditional, overpowering emotion was there nonetheless.

"Sleep now, Sweetspark. I will watch over you."

Already Samantha had fallen into a deep sleep and not heard the endearment spoken, but it was said all the same.

There was no way that she could have known that she was the beloved of other Autobots in the same way at that moment, their 'Sweetspark', but in time she would quickly become used to hearing that endearment as much as her own birth name.

As it was, she was content in the knowledge that she was loved by at least one being and let herself dream.

* * *

**Notes:** Howdy. I hope y'all like this chapter. I'm trying to make sure that everyone understands the depth of the relationship formed between the Autobots and Samantha. Doing this will help y'all to better understand when I post my version of the second movie in relation to my first piece and this one. The other 'bots will begin to emerge more boldly in a few chapters and on the fifth one you all will be introduced to the first arrivals after Optimus's call out into space at the end of the first story. Be aware that it'll be a doozy and Sam will have her hands full with this one.

**Also know that the Autobots _do _love Sam, but they are not _in _love with her. Their attachments are NOT sexual in any way and I don't intend to make them that way.**

The next chapter will be about Sam and Mike's return to school as seniors and the rest of Tranquility's views on the Mission City 'incident' and their ideas on the jock and popular girl's newfound 'attachment' to each other.

Please feel free to make any and all comments just so long as they aren't derogatory or pointed towards any of the other readers or myself. I do not mind if you say that you do not like my work, simply do not add cuss words into those statements.

I would like to have at least ten (10) new reviews before I post the next chapter. Thank you for reading.

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Transformers.


	3. Chapter 3: Back To School

**Chapter Three: Back To School**

Samantha Jane Witwicky had decided that she was in heaven. Here she was, sitting out at the lake with a guy that would put any GQ model to shame and snacking on the candies he'd bought them for this romantic get together.

Ryan looked down onto her with heavenly green eyes and smiled a dimple-inducing Cheshire cat grin. Her heat fluttered with the pleasantness of the moment. She still had some difficulty being around men, especially the devilishly handsome ones like Ryan, but this man was different. She just knew he wouldn't hurt her. She knew that he would be the one to put her completely at ease.

"Sam?" His deep, husky voice caressed her as gently, as hotly as his hands would. Her cheeks flushed as she just barely stopped herself from running her fingers through his shaggy brown hair.

"Yes, Ryan?" She inquired back, her words barely more than a whisper.

"I'm going to kiss you now."

She could feel her ears grow hot with a mixture of embarrassment, eagerness, and simple desire. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and nodded jerkily.

As if in slow motion Ryan angled his head slightly. His right hand rose to cup the base of her head and pull her steadily towards him. Her heart raced like a runaway dragster. She could all but smell the scent of pure male and pine on him, maybe even a hint of motor oil. She closed her eyes and prepared her body for the sure ecstasy she knew that she was about to receive from his kiss.

Just as only a few measly millimeters separated their lips, just enough room to feel the tingle of the heat of his bowed mouth breathing onto hers, loud music rocked her straight out of her lust-induced fog.

_ABC_

_Easy as 123_

_Or simple as do re mi_

_ABC, 123, baby, you and me girl!_

Sam's eyes snapped open quickly and she found herself staring not into a pair of forest green eyes but to the white ceiling of her room. Her teeth clenched as her phone continued to ring off the Jackson Five song '_ABC 123_'. She knew for damned certain that that particular song resided nowhere within the memory banks of her cell phone.

Which meant only one thing.

"Bumblebee!" She screeched like the very enraged teenage girl that she was.

Almost instantly she felt the humor and a slight trace of apprehension flow through her bond with the Camaro sitting out in the garage awaiting her for her first day back to school and her very first day as a Senior at Tranquility High. When the music died suddenly as Bumblebee disconnected his call Sam flopped back down onto her bed and covered her face with her pillow to block out her screams of frustration.

Ryan was her perfect guy. He was her dream man.

Literally.

With a deep sight she pushed herself onto her side to glare at her alarm clock. For a long minute she just stared at the glowing blue numbers declaring the time to be seven o'clock in the morning. She was outright confused for a time, knowing in the back of her mind that there was a reason why her 'sleep-in-Wednesdays' were being disrupted.

Then the rude awakening that she had received this morning registered.

"Oh man!" Sam whined as she rolled back over onto her bed and flopped her pillow over the back of her head.

Humor rushed through her bond with Bumblebee as he made the correct assumption that her sluggish and entirely too human mind had finally processed that summer vacation was officially over. The day had finally come that she would attend her last year of high school. Senior year.

And Bumblebee seemed more geared to go than she was.

"I don't want to get up." She mumbled into her mattress where she had buried herself, almost determined to waste away there until the rest of her senior year passed her by. If it weren't for the irritatingly chipper music Bumblebee decided to funnel through the speakers of her ill-abused cell phone she might have done just that.

Glen Miller's '_In the Mood_' was only about half way through when she lunged out of bed and ejected the battery pack from her phone to shut it up. She'd found out from experience that simply shutting her phone off did no good against an battalion alien robots that were able to hack into even the most deeply coded networks the government had to offer. The phone had a back-up power source that the 'bots build into the phone for her, one of the reasons the thing wasn't permitted to be hijacked by her human government, but the 'bots were able to pick up the clue that when she ejected the main power source and thereby rerouting to the alternative that she didn't want to talk to them.

At least not this early on her choice sleeping days.

Sam set her phone back down onto her bedside table before hurrying off to the shower. A chuckle escaped her when she thought of the Autobots' escapades around her. While they rarely had any qualms about 'bothering' her themselves, but she'd heard about the sudden barricade humans found themselves facing if they attempted to disturb her while she was either sleeping or training. She'd been chastised more than once by Ratchet that she wasn't getting as much sleep as he thought she should. That meant that when she tended to doze off in their presences, with a little help from the soothing waved they constantly thrust upon her, they kept a close optic on her and let no one interrupt her when she 'so justly deserved a reprieve'. Ratchet's words, not hers.

Summer vacation had been a blur of work at the studio and uncountable hours in the Autobots' presence. Daniela had been doubtful when she'd come back to Tranquility with a brand new Camaro in comparison to her 'piece of crap' beforehand, but she'd been able to brush it off as collateral damage to the 'terrorist attack' on Mission City. Since that was their cover-story for how she'd ended up injured in the first place.

Once she was done showering she looked her body over quickly. Her hands were scarred from the burning they'd taken by the Allspark's shell and a few scars along her back, arms, and legs from being so close to so many explosions, but otherwise most of the damage done to her had been either invisible or relatively minor. The 'bots were of a different persuasion on that matter, but she tried not to listen to them when it came to her health.

They were paranoid.

For school Sam dressed in tight blue jeans and a pink knotted halter-top. She'd throw one of her white crop short-sleeved jackets on over her top once she got to school. Her new bag was already packed with what she required for this year and sitting downstairs by the back door. After her previous bag kicked the bucket in her first encounter with Bumblebee she'd decided to purchase a canvas bag that strapped over her chest with one band and hugged close to her back. She wasn't about to lose this bag to unfortunate circumstances.

She trotted down the stairs and rounded into the kitchen to find her mother, Judy Witwicky, just finishing plating an omelet. The elder woman smiled at her with such exuberance that Sam had to smile back. Truthfully she wasn't a morning person, but her mother's pleasant moods at the breakfast table kept her from grumbling half the time.

"Good morning, Samantha." Judy hummed as she slid the omelet from its place beside the stove over the granite countertops to Sam. "You have impeccable timing, Dear. Until I heard your shower running I didn't think that you were going to get up."

"I wasn't." Sam chuckled as she forked a slice of omelet into her mouth. She pulled her cell phone and battery pack out of her back pocket and waved it in her mother's visual range. The elder woman laughed softly. "Bee decided to wake me up this morning playing a rendition of '_ABC 123_'. Then he laughed at me when I grumbled."

"You aren't exactly a morning person, Sam." Judy intoned with a taunting smirk.

"Oh, leave me alone." The daughter laughed outright before finishing off her eggs. When she was done she set her plate into the sink, the dishes already beginning to be washed by her mother, and kissed her slightly blushed cheek. "Bye, Momma. I don't know what time I'll be home. We're going out to the base after school."

Judy rolled her eyes not-so-discreetly. Sam supposed that her mother had gotten used to barely seeing her anymore. If she was not working at the studio or in training she was with one or more of the Autobots. Just yesterday she and Ironhide had gone off-roading on a track teens from generations back had made a few minutes outside of Tranquility. She and Ironhide always had fun when it was just them, whether they were spitting up dirt under his tires or simply enjoying each other's company while looking up at the stars didn't matter. The grumpy old mech had a real soft spot for her…something she had promised on her life never to brag about to the others, though they were all well aware of his gentility towards her.

"I'll put dinner away for you, then." Judy smiled a little as she gave her daughter a sidelong glance. "You always were a popular girl, Sam, but I never expected something as odd as this. No matter how strange it is, how completely unbelievable, those boys truly care about you." Sam smirked at the affectionate term 'boys' for the 'bots. Even Bumblebee was old enough to consider her mother a nonexistent blip on the evolutionary radar.

"Have fun at school today, baby." Judy kissed Sam on her cheek before shooing her off.

Sam laughed a little before nabbing up her bag at the door and hurrying out. Once inside the garage she leaned up against the door she'd closed behind her and mock-glared at the innocent looking Camaro before her.

"You, my friend, are in deep trouble."

"I did nothing wrong." Bee intoned seriously before she could feel the laugh building up through their bond. "You are only displeased that I disturbed your rem-cycle with 'Ryan'."

Sam could almost bet that her alien friend could hear her clenching her jaw. "How can you be so sure that I was dreaming about a boy?"

"You talk in your sleep." Was his matter-of-fact response.

_Of course._ The grumble came naturally to her mind. _They never leave me alone anyway, why is it such a surprise that Bee turns up his audios to pick up my breathing patterns in the night? God forbid I sneeze without him knowing about it!_

She had to admit, though, that it was embarrassing to find out this way that she tended to dream out loud.

"All right, Tin Man." Sam grumbled, refusing to go into her sleeping habits any farther. She knew that if she did she'd be turned into a blushing fool within moments, not minutes. "Let's go pick up Mike and get to school. And please, I beg of you, make sure the others understand that they can't text me all throughout the day…this warning includes you as well, Bumblebee. I've already gotten busted by Madame Lune while working at the front desk when Ratchet called to ask me to thoroughly explain my first-hand experiences of my menstrual cycle."

_Oh, there's that blush I was thinking about earlier._ Sam though as warmth speared through her cheeks from her neck and topped off in her ears.

That had been an unpleasant conversation. Talking to Ratchet about her period, despite the comforting waves he sent her through their bond, had been reminiscent of getting her first bikini wax. It had been awkward, uncomfortable, and even a little bit painful. She'd made the medbot swear on his spark that he would never ask her about her period again…nor any of the other female soldiers. If he wanted to know about a woman's monthly flow he could danged well download the information he was curious about. She wasn't going to subject anyone else to that particular brand of torture.

Bee released the door locks to allow her within his interior. As she settled down into the leather seats she felt them warm and adjust to the contours of her body as they always did. She hummed with contentment as she relaxed into the comfort of his 'embrace'. Sometimes she had to wonder if he and the others were purposely trying to put her to sleep or at the very least spoil her rotten. Her belt slid across her after she'd failed to latch it herself and snapped firmly into the buckle. Sam was well aware of the fact that should she try to undo it at any time during the drive that the innocent looking safety belt would become an unbreakable restraint that could be construed as malevolent by anyone else.

Sam chuckled when she recalled back to the first time she'd sat in Jazz's interior. The Pontiac Solstice alt-form had apparently been scanned while it had had a bunch of accessories not sold on the 'standard' model. One of these accessories were harness seatbelts designed for high-speed dragsters. They strapped down over the riders' shoulders, between their legs, and snapped together into a center port near the stomach. With the Nitrous-induced speeds, actually Energon-induced, the harnesses were welcoming.

Mike, however, hadn't taken kindly to the 'restraints'. It was her turn to laugh at him when he'd nearly hyperventilated when Jazz had refused to release the straps when they'd arrived outside of a gas station for her to go to the bathroom. Jazz had been distracted while 'monitoring' her that he'd all but forgotten to allow the seatbelt pinning Mike down to release manually.

Mike had steered clear of Jazz for about a week after that incident.

Bumblebee allowed her to act as his pseudo driver to Mike's house. Occasionally she would 'drive', but most of the time it was simply her miming the motions of driving while the Autobot did all the work. Sam didn't really mind. It was his body after all.

Mike came out the front door of his home once they arrived and jogged up to the passenger door. He hopped in once Bee pushed it open for him and then settled into his own seat. He was in the right frame of mind despite the 'early' hour to know to put his seat belt on.

"Mornin'." He smiled cheerily. Sam felt like slapping that dopey look right off of his face. Nobody should have been a happy person when they woke up as far as she was concerned. "What? No kiss?" Mike chuckled a little as he settled back into his seat, strapping his own seatbelt on.

"Bite me." She mumbled under her breath earning a 'hug' from her seatbelt and a chuckle through she and Bee's bond. In response she massaged the wheel, grazing her thumbs over the Autobot insignia in the center of it.

"So, Bee," Mike began, the evidence of an oncoming taunt clear in the soft lilt to his voice. Sam groaned knowing what was coming. "Your baby's growing up. Soon she'll be moving out of the house and you'll all be left with only each other to agonize. Are you having separation anxiety yet."

Sam had to grip the steering wheel with all of her strength and concentration so that she didn't slap her hands over her mouth to muffle the burst of laughter that burst from her. As soon as Mike had finished his last sentence Bumblebee had jerked Mike's seat back so fast that the jock almost rolled into the back seats, something that she had little doubt would have incurred had he not been buckled in. Bee took Mike on a wild ride of the seat jerking back and forth in rapid succession causing her to tear up with laughter.

"I get it! I get it!" Mike yelled, his hands held out before him as if to ward off the dash every time his body was reset into the vertical position. Bee stopped after another minute of his twisted version of those 'Punch-Me-Clowns', Mike serving as the clown. "Jeeze." The jock grumbled, shaking his head to clear away the dizziness she had little doubt that he was feeling. "No sense of humor."

"You know better than to bait them with that, Mike." She chided with little reproach. It was hard to be mad at him when he was speaking the truth, no matter how much she wanted to deny it. "Can you be a big boy today or am I going to have to put you in time-out for that smart mouth of yours?"

"I'm sorry, Mama." He mumbled in his best kiddish voice.

"You're forgiven." She chuckled a little even as she made herself turn her full attention back to the road even though Bee had long since taken over driving. Once again Sam found herself miming the actions of driving as she always seemed to be doing since purchasing Bumblebee from Bobby Bolivia.

It didn't take long to reach the school. Bee parked himself under one of the larger trees at the back of the lot where he'd be least likely to get hit, but also fairly close to the main road. When Sam attempted to open her door to get out Bee kept her lock down while unsnapping Mike's belt, tilting his seat, and cracking open his door. It was the Camaro's very obvious, yet silent way of telling the jock that he wished for a private moment with her.

"Just don't let anyone catch you talking to yourself, Sam." Mike winked before popping out of the car.

Samantha settled back into her seat as Bee 'hugged' her with the belt.

"Samantha." The voice that came through the radio did not belong to any talk-show hosts or Bumblebee himself. This voice was unmistakable in its sheer power and muted volume. So much affection was held in that one word that it was hard for her to not look away as if embarrassed.

"Good morning, Optimus."

"Good morning, Sam." She did grin at the chuckle she heard come through the speakers. "Bumblebee tells me that you were not gracious upon waking from your recharge this morning." Sam snorted and felt the returned humor from the Camaro.

"Hardly." She grunted. "You know as well as I do that Wednesdays are my sleep-in days. It's a crime to start school back up half-way through the week anyway. So, what prolific words do you have to shower upon me this morning, Yoda?"

There was silence for a long moment where Sam could only hear her own breathing and feel Bumblebee hugging her via the seatbelt. She ran her fingers gently over the wheel, fingering his insignia. When Optimus's voice once again broke through the interior of the car she startled, jumping a bit in Bee's tight hold.

"Be well, Samantha. Enjoy your time and know that we will be here if you have need of us."

She smiled very softly then, tears fighting to make their way onto her face. With a deep, inward breath she closed her eyes and reached within her to the bonds she shared with each and every one of them. She allowed contentment, bliss, and love to blow through those bonds as she never had before. Bee shuddered under her at the sheer intensity of those emotions. She felt the same reaction at even this distance from the other bots.

She was only slightly surprised when she felt two other threads, bonds that she hadn't yet formed, send back a tickle of some emotion she wasn't sure how to name. She could almost swear that it was a mix of excitement and anxiety, but also a trickle of awe. She tried not to follow those threads as she had never seen them as clearly before, but it was danged hard. Like some of the others, these threads, these bonds, were becoming stronger the closer they got.

She knew what that meant.

Others were coming.

More Autobots were finally responding to the call to come to Earth and she was acting as a second beacon in the dark. They were like moths to a flame.

She promised herself that tonight, when they were all together; she'd tell them about the incoming duo. For now…for now she just wanted to start of her senior year as normally as she was able to.

"Thank you, Optimus." She patted Bee's wheel in a signal for him to unlatch the seatbelt. "And thank you, Bumblebee. I couldn't have asked for better friends." 'Friends' seemed like such a dirty word to compare the connection she had with them all, but it was the only word she could think to use.

Bee released her after another moment, the reluctance clear in how slowly he moved as well as through their bond. Sam leaned forward quickly after the door had opened to place a quick peck to his insignia and then skipped out of the car.

Mike was leaning against the tree smiling very faintly.

"You ready?" He asked, a twinge of regret in his voice. She knew what he was feeling though she shared no emotional ties with him as she did with the 'bots. The jock was finally beginning to clue in to how far from normal they had both slipped, how much farther gone she was, and how much farther they were going to go.

"Yeah." Her shaky smile was probably very unconvincing of her attempt at a jovial-demeanor, but at that moment she couldn't bring herself to care overly much.

Damn it all to hell. The longer she was exposed to this life with the 'bots, the longer she embraced the bonds, and the more 'bots she came into contact with, the harder it would become for her to break away.

_Oh God._ She shuddered inwardly at the thought of what the 'bots would do when she aged and passed away as was the natural way of things. _The world will come to an end._

Samantha didn't even want to think of how very 'real' that commonly stated exaggeration would become once she was finally gone from the living world.

* * *

**Notes:** Sorry, y'all. I just moved and it's taken me a while to get settled in. I hope to keep a somewhat regular schedule with posting chapters after this at one chapter every week. I hope that this one was to your liking, though it was a bit more subdued than my other chapters. The next chapter will actually be the introduction of Skids and Mudflap to planet Earth.

Please feel free to review. I'd like ten (ten) new reviews before I post the next chapter. Thank you all for reading and I hope that I haven't disappointed you. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Transformers.


	4. Chapter 4: When Twins Come Home

**Chapter Four: When Twins Come Home**

"You had better have a damned good explanation for this, Bumblebee." Samantha grumbled as she fell nearly face-first into the back seats of the yellow Camaro that was her car and best friend. She tried to sound stern, she really did, but it was difficult to be taken seriously when she could barely keep her eyes open.

Bumblebee fastened her in without a word, but a fond caress of their bond showed her that he was sorry for waking her. She wanted to yell at him, to make him understand that she didn't like walking out of the house wearing only her long Happy Bunny sweats and double-X tie-dye t-shirt at two o'clock in the morning when she had been up until midnight writing an essay for American Literature. She was exhausted and having to go in for extra hours at the studio to fill in on another girl's shift just about killed her.

"Sleep for now, Sam. I will wake you when we arrive at our destination." Bumblebee spoke softly through the speakers as he upped the heat in the cab until she was blissfully warm and falling back into a contented slumber.

She woke once more to the gentle tugging on the seatbelt about her waist. The blue florescent numbers of the radio's clock seemed to mock her. She'd only been asleep for twenty minutes. She tried to curl back into oblivion, the one wonderful state available for a sleeping body, but the tugging to her waist became more forceful until she groaned out loud.

"Ten more hours." She begged into the leather seats even as she felt multiple chuckles run through the speaker system. "That's all I ask. Just ten more hours of uninterrupted sleep and then you can wake me up."

"I am sorry, Samantha." Ratchet's voice intoned through the speakers even as the driver's side door opened and the front seat pushed forward until there was room for her to get out of the back of Bumblebee. "While I agree that you require your recharge and are wholly deserving of it, there are some mechs that you must meet when they make landfall."

"More mechs?" She yawned out.

She felt along their bonds and was thoroughly surprised to find the two that only a month ago had barely even registered to her were now fully solidified. She let her curiosity ride along the bonds until she hit their source. She gasped at the swirling combination of green and red light, a trippy mixture of inherent spontaneity and chaos. A jolt of pure Cybertronian adrenalin, awe, and elation snapped back at her and she gasped.

"Who the hell is that?" She breathed out, patting her hand over her racing heart. One slightly off-affect of sharing bonds with any of the bots was that sometimes their emotions sent her own into a tailspin. Still being drugged from little to no sleep and then having a mini adrenaline attack vicariously was making her see double.

And making her a bit crankier.

"Their designations are Skidz and Mudflap." Ratchet spoke with a hint of dread. "I have little doubt within my processor that within a vorn they will have completely corrupted you to their ways if we allowed them to."

"Huh?" Sam asked as she stumbled out of Bumblebee. As soon as she was far enough away the scout transformed, bent down, plucked her up, and then settled her into the crook of his arm like she was a newborn baby. Her size certainly leant merit to that thought. Against her will she was already falling back into the comforts of sleep with the aid of Bee's contentedly thrumming spark and its warmth.

"You will see." Ironhide responded gruffly, coming to stand beside Bee. His blue optics shown particularly brightly down onto her and she would have bet her parent's house that he would have smiled if his face plates could allow that kind of expression. "Don't fall into recharge on us now, Sweetspark. Do you not want to see the landfall?"

There was that 'Sweetspark' again. She gathered that it was a term of endearment, something translated into 'sweetheart' in human words. It seemed that ever since going to the drive-in those short months ago she was hearing that word more and more often. Occasionally she would hear 'little one' or 'youngling', but those words they would also use once in a while when Will's daughter, Annabel, was brought to the base. It seemed that 'Sweetspark' was a name that was entirely reserved for her and rarely spoken around those that were not Cybertronian.

Hell's Bells! They were already doing it. She was becoming something vital to them, something essential. While it wouldn't be comfortable for any of them, especially with her developing 'abilities', they'd need to slow down. They needed to think about the short…too short future ahead of _her_. She needed to help them find a more absolute vessel for the Allspark or a way to be rid of it completely before the fact hit their processors that she wasn't going to be around forever.

"Your fault." She spoke through a yawn, desperate to get back to sleep where the real world couldn't bother her. The guys gave her their Cybertronian equivalent of an 'awe' when she snuggled automatically closer to Bee's spark chamber. Once again she could all but picture herself wearing a diaper with a binky in her mouth.

Either they were too big or she was just too danged small.

Still she kept one eye peeked open to watch the horizon that Bumblebee was facing her towards. A soft smile played across her face when she watched the twin 'meteors' strike down from the black as pitch sky into the lush green field hundreds of yards away. Once again the small shower, just like the first time she'd seen one from the cemetery not so long ago, brought up images of old battles fought in the middle ages with castles and catapults.

She tried, she really did, but once the bots had made landfall she was already asleep in Bee's arms. When she awoke, though, it was to two new voices and _not_ a persistent Autobot finger or shake.

"She really is the Allspark." A new voice spoke with awe.

"But she's so small." Another chimed.

"I ain't small." Sam groused and maneuvered herself to peak over Bumblebee's arm to glare slightly down at the two new bots. They were considerably shorter than even Bee, coming to just below his spark chamber in height. Actually, they were even smaller than Jazz. Jazz was about fourteen feet tall, so she'd assume that these two were between eleven and twelve. "You're just mutant alien freaks."

Still, they were _her_ mutant alien freaks.

"Sam," Optimus began, amusement and loving indulgence clear in his tone, "I would like to formally introduce you to Skids and Mudflap. They are two of our best frontline fighters, though their exploits off the field of combat are what they are best known for amongst the other Autobots."

"So I've heard." She yawned out once more, trying desperately not to snuggle back into Bee's arm. "Skids and Mudflap, the only other twins known to create as much mayhem as Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. You two aren't identical twins, though. No, you're…like, fraternal twins I think. At least that would be the human translation of it. Yeah, that fits. You feel alike, but your bonds don't beat in the same beat…they're different. I think. Oh, hell! I'm too tired to care."

With that exclamation she flopped back down into the shelter of Bee's arm and curled up into the warmth provided by his spark. She felt it pulse with the awareness at her nearness and let her own feelings of welcome encompass him. She was only faintly aware of that same mental hug reaching out to the others around her, but only just. She was so wrapped in the care they sent her way that she almost didn't register when they started moving her.

Almost.

She whined as she was maneuvered ever so carefully into much smaller arms than she was used to, but still far larger than a human's. Peeking her eyes open while fighting her way through her bond-induced bliss she found herself looking up into one of their bright blue optics. Thought they were still in their protoforms, the silver base they remained in until they attained a terrestrial disguise, she was willing to bet that this one was Skids. It wasn't really their looks that told them apart as much to her, it was the added 'nonchalance' to Skids that Mudflap didn't have. Skids was the slightly, just slightly, more sedate of the twins.

"Nice to meet you, Skids." She mumbled, testing the difference of the warmth from Skids's spark to Bumblebee's or any of the others'. It seemed that no matter the 'bot, she felt like a coddled child in their arms of metal and energon.

"How can you tell me from my brother, youngling?"

"Lucky guess."

It wasn't, but she was too tired to explain.

"And I'm not a youngling. I'm almost an adult by human standards."

"Or course you are, Samantha." Ratchet chuckled. She felt metal fingers skim her legs and an unconscious trickle of Allspark power flowed through her and into the arms holding her as well as the hand rubbing her calves. A smirk found its way to her lips when the newcomers staggered with shock while the others chuckled. "Bumblebee, transform so that we may get Sam back to the base."

"Not the base." She argued even as the sound of shifting metal and gears penetrated the quiet peace of the night around them. "Have school tomorrow."

"Ya can miss a single day of yer classes, Sweetspark." Jazz spoke for the first time that night. "Ya overworked yerself today." There was chastisement in that tone. Ooh, if she could muster up the strength she would have worked up a descent 'mad'. While they only did what they thought was best for her it was becoming more commonplace for them to supersede her whishes for 'her benefit'.

Only a week ago Ratchet, the traitor, had made the soldiers on the base stop serving her caffeinated beverages after five o'clock at all because they tended to make her stay up later than he would condone as healthy.

"No. Home." She grumbled like a petulant child.

"No, Samantha. _Base_." Jazz directed back as she felt herself being tilted until she was set down onto her feet. Large metal hands stayed behind her back as if to support her if she were to fall. Sam crinkled her nose with distaste when she opened her eyes to find Bumblebee's driver's side door open, the driver's seat beckoning for her.

For some reason the seatbelts were looking ominously more like real restraints than safety devices at that moment. She wasn't afraid, but Sam had little doubt that those belts were going to be keeping her in that seat until Bee decided that it was time for her to come out…and she had little doubt that she'd only be coming out at the base not at her home.

_Oh boy._ She thought, shaking off her exhaustion. _Maybe if I fake being awake I can actually go home and go to school tomorrow. Not likely, but it's worth a shot._

"Come on guys." Sam looked up to Optimus, giving the Prime her best puppy-dog face. While school was not her favorite place to be it still made her feel as if she had a normal life. She'd take any crumbs that life was willing to throw her at this point. "It's just late. Of course I'm tired. I'm not overworked."

"You cannot lie to us, Sweetspark." Ratchet piped in from behind her and she winced at the reprimand in his tone. She peeked out of the corner of her eye to see him standing with his arms crossed over his chassis, a bright glow in his optics. Testing the waters of their bond she found only resolute determination to have her at the base this night and the next day to recoup. "Arguing over this matter is senseless. I suggest that you learn to choose your battles well, Samantha."

"I want to go to school tomorrow." Again the petulant child within her reared her ugly head. Sam felt oh so tempted to kick her foot into the ground and pout. She bet that would just make the best impression on the new bots.

_Yeah. Right._

"We know." Optimus intoned in his deep baritone. "You are exhausted, however, and a single day of not attending your classes will not impede overly much upon your learning. Please, Sam, let us take you to the base to rest. I will call your mother myself."

She snorted. "You think I'm going to argue to be the one to talk to Judy Witwicky? You'll be lucky if she doesn't come after you with her bat." Amusement rung through her from each and every one of them.

"We can handle your mother, Sweetspark. It is _you_ that drains our energon tanks." Ironhide chuckled. "Now, we ask again, please come with us."

Sam sighed deeply, knowing that Ratchet had spoken the truth. She had to pick her fights well and this was going to be one of them that she just had to sulk through. It was one day of school that she _could_ miss. She just didn't want to.

"Fine." She all but hissed, pushing away from the hands that Skids still held just behind her.

She listed only half-heartedly as Optimus gave instructions to Skids and Mudflap in Cybertronian as she flopped down into the driver's seat of Bumblebee's terrestrial disguise. Sure enough the seatbelt snapped down with cool efficiency and pinned her into the conforming leather seats. Warmth spread throughout her body from both the seat heating and the air blowing softly over her skin from the vents within the cab.

"You may sleep now, Sweetspark." Bumblebee hummed gently through his speakers even as he tipped her seat back into a reclined position. "We will see you when you wake."

"I want bacon out of this deal." She ordered, her eyes fixating for a moment onto the radio, the perceived 'face' of any of the bots when they were in their terrestrial disguises. "Slab bacon and loads of waffles."

Bee laughed joyfully at her. "Of course, Sam. Major Lennox made sure that we were stocked with some of your favorite foods outside of what the mess hall provides. Now rest. We will watch over you."

A soft smile played over her lips and she couldn't help but trace her fingers over the stick shift in a kind of caress. "I know you will, Bee. 'Night."

"Good night, Sweetspark."

Almost as soon as her eyes were shut she was asleep.

* * *

Sam awoke on her sofa within the confines of the Autobot's hanger. Her eyes drifted back and forth over the hanger to find that Ironhide was transformed into his Topkick form beside her sofa. A quick look at their bond told her that he was asleep, or recharge as the Cybertronian's phrased it. The others were nowhere to be seen, though she could _feel_ them.

Stretching languidly under the plush, ultra-soft blanket that she had been swaddled in whenever they had arrived at the base. A sidelong glance at the clock on DV-Recorder under the oversized television showed that she had slept straight through until eleven-o'clock. Her eyes widened with surprise at having slept so long. Even on the weekend when she didn't have school she was up before six in the morning.

"Good morning, Sam." Ironhide's gruff voice reached her, the almost southern drawl slipping into the deep cadence of his tone. She jerked her head around to beam towards the weapon's specialist.

"Mornin' Ironhide. Was it time for your nap already?" She teased, sitting up so that her back was pushed into the back cushions of the sofa while her legs pulled up under her. "Are you getting old on me, Hide? Should I start calling you Grandpa?"

"Were you anyone else, I would have you cleaning canons all day." The black bot grumbled as he took on his bipedal form. Sam watched him transform over with the same muted wonder she knew she would always feel at being so honored to see such a spectacular change.

"You love me." She waved him off with a laugh. "But seriously, why were you napping here with me? Normally you're up and about, tailing Lennox and his men, and adopting your 'cowboy' accent."

"The twins." She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the unadulterated exasperation in his tone. She could feel through the bond they shared that it wasn't exaggerated. He was truly worn out from the two mechs.

"Come on. They can't be that bad."

"They are." He insisted. "Sadly they found themselves as intrigued as Jazz was by Earth accents. While Ratchet ran diagnostics over each of them last night they assimilated all the so-called 'proper' mannerisms to go along with their new accents."

"You're just being a big baby." She chuckled, coming to stand onto both feet. Her gaze skimmed over the rest of the hanger and the few humans within it before centering onto Ratchet once more. "How about you take me to go get my bacon. Maybe I'll even give you a wash and wax to make up for the twins driving you up the wall. Oh. I made a funny." She knew that it wasn't really that funny at all, but she couldn't help but smirk at the emotional eye-roll he gave her. Underneath the guffaw she felt his enthusiasm for his up and coming wash, though.

Ironhide set his hand down beside where she stood so that she could climb up, but before she could even take one step an engine roared and tires squealed. Her head whipped towards the hanger entrance to see a pink and white, decrepit looking ice-cream truck speeding towards her. She didn't need Ironhide's groan to tell her who the new bot was.

"Yo, it's da gurl." Skids' voice reached out to her as the ice-cream truck slid to a stop before her.

"How ya doin', gurl." The same truck spoke in Mudflap's slightly less nasal voice. Skids seemed to have a twinge of a lisp hidden in his tone while Mudflap had a deeper resonance, though he had nothing on Optimus or even Ratchet and Ironhide.

"You guys can combine into the same alt-forms?" She asked with a raised brow towards Ironhide. Before he could even answer the twins butted their metal heads back in.

"'Course we can, gurl. Ain't not'in' we mechs can't do!" Mudflap cheered as they shifted into their bipedal forms. "We be the awesomest of all da bots 'ere!"

Skids reached out just then, and she noticed with a twinge of surprise that he was extremely careful when he did it, to picked her up and swung her up onto his shoulders like she was a toddler. Her hands instantly groped for his audio receptors to keep stable. They weren't shaped like human ears, but they didn't exactly lie fully flat against his head either. The effort wasn't lost on either of the twins as Mudflap came up behind where she sat on Skids to press a steadying hand at her back. She felt Ironhide's absolute disbelief.

"Yer spendin' the day wit' us, gurl." Mudflap said with a definitive nod of his head. "Ironaft can go play wit' da Hatchet."

A growl ripped through the air and Sam had to force herself not to laugh or even smile.

"If Samantha had been anywhere else you two would be scrap metal." Ironhide swore with venom, his optics blazing bright. When they landed onto her they dimmed quickly. She had learned some time ago that that was the Cybertronian version of having their 'eyes soften'. "If you grow tired of these two, feel free to call out to any one of us. We'll — _handle_ them." And with that he walked off.

"I t'ink he meant'a 'urt us." Skids chuckled when Ironhide was gone.

"You just _think_?" Sam laughed, whooping when she made Skids totter to keep her from falling. "You planned that, didn't you? You knew that if Skids had me Ole Ironhide couldn't bust you for calling him 'Ironaft'."

"We may be annoyin' ta most of da mechs, but we ain't half as dumb as dey make us out ta be." Mudflap did his head-nod one more before leading the way out of the hanger.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked of them both, still happily riding upon Skids's shoulders.

"Ta get yer bacon!"

"Yes!" She cheered earning her a couple chuckles from the mechs beneath her.

* * *

As the day progressed, Samantha was essentially oblivious to the inner thoughts of the twin mechs she'd spent the day with. While they got her acquainted to them and joining in on their fun, something they hadn't expected her to do as they had fun taunting the bigger 'bots, they began to realize that this little human was growing on them at an exponential rate. Not just the Allspark power drew them to her, but her innate kindness and purity.

Throughout the day they would shoot looks and words back and forth through their private Comm-lines. Whether the other mechs believed it or not, they weren't nearly as meddlesome as they believed. They were actually quite intelligent. They just chose to show their genius in different ways.

They had felt something besides Prime's message calling them to the planet known as Earth. At first it had felt like a Sparkbond, a mating bond, but the more they explored the bond, the more they realized that it was something else….something _more_. Once it had attached onto their sparks, they had had no other choice but to seek it out. What neither of them had expected was for it to be the Allspark's vessel, a petite female youngling of a _species_ younger than even they were.

It wasn't the first trickle of Allspark power that had connected them to the little femme that Mudflap now had tucked into his arms after she had worn herself out from their games. It was _her_. _She_ had been the one to connect them with her purity and strength. She had been the one to unconsciously keep them tied unconditionally to this small, backwater planet full of organics.

"Ya know dat she's gonna have us tied 'round 'er little finga, don't cha?"

Skids looked to his brother and then down to the human between them who was blissfully unaware of their devotion to her. Whatever the bond was that they shared, not sexual and not familial, it went as deeply or even deeper than the one that they shared as twins. His spark reached out to her small form and he was only partially surprised when her own unique power engulfed his in a kind of embrace.

"Like she doesn't already." Skids chuckled to his brother before looking back towards the hanger. "D'ya think dey know we've got 'er?"

"Since Ironaft ain't shootin' up da base, I'd guess so."

"We ain't leavin' Earth, are we?" Mudflap raised his head to stare optic-to-optic with his twin at his softly spoken words. Their optics fell onto Samantha at the same time, warmth cascading through their bonds and into her.

"Not without 'er." Mudflap intoned with such determination that Skids dared not question him…especially when he and the other 'bots felt the same.

* * *

**Notes****:** Howdy everyone. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. I'm sorry about the long wait, but here is the awaited chapter. I would like to have ten new reviews for chapter four before posting the next chapter. Hopefully I will be able to get the next one out sooner than I did this one. I hope that it didn't disappoint.

**Disclaimer****:** I do not own Transformers.


	5. Chapter 5: Anything For You

**Chapter Five: Anything For You**

"I'll be fine, Bumblebee. Now let me out!" Sam shook viciously on the driver's side door that had her locked within the black, yellow, and silver interior as nothing else could. She could read her friend's annoyance at her inferior struggles for freedom, but also the underlying worry.

"I do not like you being in the home of this human. I do not care whether it would distress your friend or not." Bumblebee's voice echoed through the cab, proof enough that he was serious about his feelings. He enjoyed using sound bites and movie clips, but in a serious occasion he refused to use anything but his true voice. At times even she was taken aback when her scout friend acted his age instead of an adolescent even younger than she.

"Bee." The name was sighed from between her lips in a near plea. She gave her best puppy-dog eyes to the radio within the cab, a feat she had come to realize, ecstatically, worked on the Autobots. For whatever reason she perpetually represented a child-like goddess for them. With her size, insignificant age, and her ability to harness the Allspark's power, she was all but worshiped, something that she normally did not want. On this occasion, though, she was not above using any and all means within her power to get her way.

"I don't like Glenn Mathewson, either, but it's Vicky's one and only slumber party of the year. As hard as this is for me to swallow, Vicky is my friend…sort of, and as a friend it's my duty to attend something that she deems incredibly important to her. For once there won't be any drinking and no partying, Glenn is supposed to be out on business, and when was the last time that I got to do anything with Miley?"

"One week, four days, six hours, forty-seven minutes, and twenty-six seconds." Was the scout's instantaneous response.

"Bumblebee!" She barked out, sagging exasperatedly into the seat. She felt the cushions begin their normally heating and cooling in addition to the gentle massage he always gave to her back as a kind of fond caress. "Please! I'll have my phone on me at all times and you'll be sitting right in this driveway all night. Plus I promised! Don't make me a liar, Bee. Please."

It was time for the best acting of her life. She forced tears to well into her eyes, but not fall, and pouted her lips at the radio. Several of the bots reacted to her distress and sent soothing waves to her that she could not fight off. Their emotions wrapped around her like a warm blanket and she quickly found her efforts to sucker her friend into letting her out thwarted.

Damn.

It was only once she had been calmed down entirely by the emotional blanket that Bumblebee sighed out deeply through his vents, the warm air blowing at her bangs.

"Very well." It took everything within her power not to pump her fist in victory. Doing such wouldn't be very magnanimous of her. "But you will keep your bond completely opened, Samantha. I do not relish risking your safety this way, but as you said I will be close by."

"Thank you!" She cheered and kissed the Autobot insignia in the center of the steering wheel. She could feel both her guardian's emotional blush as well as the heat that suddenly flooded the interior of the car. "Awe. Was that your first kiss, Bee?" She teased as she eased out of the Camaro.

In response as she pulled her bag of pajamas and sleep-over essentials out of the back seat her friend popped her behind lightly with the door, his version of a love-spank. She yelped in surprise, but then laughed.

"Remind me to get out a bat sometime to repay that favor." She threw a wink over her shoulder while rubbing her rump. It didn't really hurt and she knew that Bee knew it didn't as well because she felt his internal chuckle.

With a deep, inward sigh Sam made her way up to the front door of Vicky's house. She had barely lifted her hand to knock on the door when Vicky hurled the door open and squealed with girlish delight. She fought the instant urge to plug her ears against Vicky's childishness.

"Ooh, I'm so happy you're here! Miley said that you were parked for a while in the driveway. Why didn't you get out of your car sooner?" Sam smirked inwardly, knowing better than to say that her car wouldn't let her out until she'd promised to look after herself. Instead she slid into the large house past the still chattering Vicky to look eye to rolling eye with her best human friend, Miley.

Samantha felt extremely guilty for not telling Miley about the Autobots, but she just couldn't bring herself to drag her friend into this war like she had been. No matter how much she desired to have another female to talk to about the Cybertronians besides Maggie or one of the female army women, she couldn't do that to Miley. She had a chance at a normal life and Sam was going to fight until her last breath to have her keep that normalcy for as long as she could.

Because she had little doubt that eventually, whether it was in her lifetime or not, the Cybertronians wouldn't be able to keep their secret any longer. No, such a thing couldn't be kept hidden from humanity indefinitely.

"The lock was stuck." She replied automatically to Vicky's earlier question.

"Why don't you just go and get that fixed?" Tiffany, another senior they went to school with snorted out. "How long has that lock been sticking since you got that new car? And aren't new cars like that supposed to be problem-free?

"It was a prototype. It came with a few quirks." Okay, so a little more than a few.

"It doesn't matter! You're here now!" Vicky cheered, leading the way to the stairwell that would take them to her bedroom. "So, Sam, give us all the hot gossip on your hunky friends?"

Samantha followed after Vicky, Miley right beside her, and rolled her eyes. Occasionally Bumblebee had been needed at the base and she had ended up hitching a ride with either the Bumper-Car Twins, as she had affectionately begun to call them, Jazz, or Ironhide. While Ironhide had a hologram that was older, in his mid-forties, both Jazz and the Bumper-Car Twins had assumed early twenty-year old holograms. While they might not have been the physical manifestation, they were incredibly attractive simulations.

The holograms had been specially created for each 'bot to fit his personality as he saw best. Jazz, having thoroughly enjoyed everything about city living and the music related to it specifically, had chosen the form of a nearly six foot tall black man with a shaved head, muscular yet lean build, and emphasized in wearing a silver-ish t-shirt and baggy blue jeans with a chain on the right side. Like his bipedal form his hologram had pale blue eyes that were almost luminescent.

The Bumper-Car Twins were five-foot-ten each in their holograms. While Skids had a head of black that was spiked magnificently, Mudflap had given his hologram a Mohawk. They both had slightly bronzed skin and well-proportioned muscle. Skids gave his hologram a green piercing above his left eye while Mudflap had a red one over his right. Both sported mischevious smiles that mothers warned their daughters against since the beginning of time. Both of them looked by bad-ass punks, as Miley had stated the first time she had gotten a ride from them both in the crappy ice-cream truck they had chosen for a terrestrial form. She was secretly keeping in contact with a designer she had come to know from Chevy. If she had anything to say about it, by the time she went off to college those two would no longer be sharing an alt-form…and a piece of junk one at that.

Sometimes knowing the Secretary of Defense had its bonuses.

While those three were the ones that got the most outward lustful stares from her peers, Optimus, Ratchet, and Ironhide also got their fair share of attention when they activated their holograms.

Optimus was a George Clooney look-alike in his early forties, except with a head of short, yet lush light brown hair and steel grey eyes. The Prime had taken on a hologram that got most women, middle aged or older, swooning. Ratchet, much to Sam's amusement, looked like a certain Hugh Laurie, famed Doctor Gregory House, only a bit older. His own lean musculature had her dreading the time when the holoform software would be brought to Earth and she'd become the Hatchet's newest favorite patient. Ironhide was a tempting mix of Chuck Conners from an old black and white western 'The Rifleman' and Clint Eastwoon. He assumed an age in his mid to late forties. Upon his hologram's head he always wore a black Stetson.

It was Bumblebee, though, the very few times that she had seen his assumed hologram, that got her heart racing. Bumblebee had twisted together Channing Tatum, Orlando Bloom, Brad Pitt, David Beckham, and Matthew McConaughey. She could see the traces of each of these men all formed together into this perfect form of male specimen. It only pissed her off that he had taken this hologram form because he had done so to taunt her and her 'dream man' Ryan. The only notable difference was that while Ryan had green eyes in her dreams, Bee's hologram had blue ones. She was determined that when those thrice-damned holoforms came to the 'bots, she'd slap Bumblebee's silly for doing such horrible things to her hormones.

"They're doing well." Was all Sam responded with to Vicky's prodding for gossip. She got a round of groans from the other girls and she laughed, knowing full well that she'd have to give more information out before the night was through.

* * *

Samantha padded across the floor of the kitchen, her eyes half lidded with sleep. It was just after four o'clock in the morning and she was wiped out. She just wanted to get another bottle of water for the night and then go straight to sleep.

They'd played games, gossiped, done makeovers, and other such 'girly' things that Vicky deemed 'have-to-do' at her party for hours on end. The girls obsessed over all of her new 'friends'. Mercedes actually remarked on how ruggedly handsome Ironhide was, something that Sam would take delight in informing the Weapon's Specialist later.

The Bumber-Car Twins had called once while she was in the party after she'd laughed so hard that her sides hurt. The girls all squealed, took the phone right out of her hand, and put it onto speaker so that they could all talk to Skids and Mudflap. Unlike the other mechs, Skids and Mudflap didn't bother having human names for their holograms for the people that weren't in the know. They looked so much like they would belong to a skate-park or rock band that Skids and Mudflap were accepted by most all people.

The two had them all in stitches for the hour that they stayed on the cell phone. Despite all the grousing that Ironhide or even Ratchet did about their behavior, the twins were undoubtedly intelligent. They were well versed in distraction and diversion so that any time one of the girls got onto a subject that they couldn't rightly speak of they would switch tracks so fast it would leave Sam's head spinning, but the others clueless.

When she'd hung up on them, she'd felt a blast of warmth through the bond she had with the two, an emotional hug of sorts like they were saying goodnight. The sensation left her smiling softly into her chest, refusing to let the others see her sudden sedate elation.

Once at the fridge she pulled it open part-way, refusing to get into the way of the full blast of cold air. She doubted that it would wake her up enough, but she wasn't going to risk not being able to get any more sleep. Her slender hand slid between the crack she'd made, gripped at a bottle of water, and tugged it out.

Just as she was shutting the door Sam's ears perked at the sound of shuffling feet. Shrugging she assumed that it was one of the other girls coming down to raid the fridge for another late-night snack. Twisting the cap of the bottle, though, she was becoming disturbingly more aware of the fact that the shuffling feet did not belong to a slender, high-school cheerleader.

Nervousness and a slight twinge of fear that she couldn't control slipped through her and straight into the bonds. Almost instantaneously she felt the Autobots stir to life from each of their positions, whether it was Bee out in the driveway or Optimus back at the base. She could hear her phone going off upstairs, but she was frozen where she stood. She wanted to go get it, oh how she wanted to, but the sound of those heavy footfalls were coming closer and closer.

Sam held her breath as she stared at the arched doorway. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest and her fear mounting. Vicky lived in a very rich part of town. They had all the security features on the house that were deemed necessary. That aside, there was a sentient alien robot sitting out in the driveway that would sacrifice his Spark, something she tried so hard not to think about, to see to her safety. That meant that nobody had broken in.

Which meant…

"What are you doing in my house, girl?" Glenn Mathewson demanded of her as he flicked on the light switch beside him. The light illuminated only the area above the sink. Shadows were cast ominously around the room and gave the big man an even more terrifying appearance.

"Vicky had a slumber party. I was invited." She wanted to ask back what he was doing here, as he was supposed to be away on 'business', but refrained from it. This was not a man to talk back to. Hell, she'd rather face down Megatron again over top of being in the same room or the same house as Glenn.

"Why are you down here?" He grumbled out, taking another step into the kitchen closer to her. She could smell the cigarette smoke clinging to his blazer even this far away from him. Her heartbeat ratcheted again and she felt the tension in the 'bots grow. They were trying to sooth her fear, but she could tell that they were fighting their own hysteria.

Sam noted in the back of her mind that this had never happened before. When she had been running from Megatron before the super freaky stuff began to happen to her, her 'bond' with the 'bots wasn't strong. Now she essential ran a piece of them emotionally. They could feel what she was feeling and right now she was too scared to close their bonds off to protect them from some of it.

This was so going to turn out bed for her.

She just knew it.

Her cell phone continued to ring upstairs, but neither she nor Glenn seemed in the mood to pay attention to it. Sam really didn't know what the man before her was thinking, but she knew that for the first time she was regretting not having seen the holoform program initiated. She wanted physical force behind her that the program would allow her. Instead, no matter how much the 'bots tried to comfort her through their bonds, she felt alone and terrified. She felt like she was being cornered by Tucker again.

"I was getting water." Short and simple. Maybe he'd go away if she didn't expand upon anything?

He came forward several steps this time. She had to fight every instinct in her body not to back up into fridge. Her eyes darted towards the back French doors momentarily, gauging how far and how fast she'd need to run if the need came to take such action.

"How old are you, girl?"

She wasn't going to answer that. She couldn't. There were so many ways that it could blow up in her face. If she was eighteen, he'd see it more within his rights to touch her. If she was seventeen to him she'd be young enough to order about like the little girl she felt like. Yes, she was of the 'proper' age of eighteen, but she still wanted Glenn Mathewson to know as little about her as possible.

"Are you deaf?" Glenn barked out, the smell of smoke thickening in the room and making her sick with it.

"No." Was her clipped response.

"Then answer me, girl." All of Megatron's 'maggots', 'insects', and 'fleshlings' snarled at her seemed to have less venom in them than this man's single 'girl'. She almost felt dirty hearing the word.

Stupid, but she had to say it. "No."

That brought the big man to a halt. His eyes seemed to glimmer with an angry promise and dread skated down her spine in the form of hundreds upon hundreds of goosebumps. Part of her wished that the ice forming and clutching at her consciousness was a Decepticon, but that was not to be.

Glenn remained frozen only for a moment longer before a sickeningly sweet, tainted-evil smile formed onto his lips.

"I like a little fire in my girls." He growled out, the sound not the least bit enticing to her. As Glenn stalked towards her it was at this time that Sam began to walk backwards. She kept her sights on the door out of her peripheral vision. She'd get out of this…one way or another. "Where are you going, girl? We haven't been properly introduced yet."

"And I don't intend to be." She whispered before darting for the back door. She only made it as far as the end of the center island before she felt her wrist jerked painfully. She screeched, whirling her opposite fist back towards the man now keeping her from her break for freedom.

"Be still, you little bitch." Glenn snarled just before her fist contacted with his chin. She heard a crack from her fingers and felt a searing pain run through them. The adrenalin rush overrode the pain, though.

Glenn snarled at her before lashing his left hand out and backhanding her. Sam's vision erupted into a series of black and purple spots. She could almost see the bruise forming in her mind's eye on her cheek from the force in which she had been struck. She might have staggered and fallen if the man before her had not still had a firm hold on her wrist.

Emotions that were not wholly her own whirled within her. She felt unadulterated fear, anxiousness, worry, and most of all rage. She could feel a sensation almost like being pulled from her own mind to reside in a place of warmth, calm, and affection. Only a part of her registered that it was the 'bots attempting to keep her as calm as they could, to reassure her that they were on their way, while the rest of her worked to fight against both the 'bots negative feelings and Glenn.

"Let go of me!" She shouted, kicking out towards his groin with one leg. She didn't care if she was playing dirty. So long as she made it out of this situation, she'd do whatever it took. Unfortunately the man dodged her leg easily.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something more, Bumblebee's car alarms sounded off. Glenn was startled enough that Sam was able to wrench her right wrist free, aim a fierce blow to the man's groin, and then hightail it out the back door. Without having the code to the alarm system the doors triggered the home's built-in alarm when she rushed out.

Sam didn't care.

She ran as fast as she was able, not looking back once, around the back of the house, through the wooden back gate, and straight towards Bumblebee.

The yellow Camaro lurched forward quickly, the driver's side door swinging open automatically to allow her entry. Sam dove in, her heart pounding a mile a minute. At the same time her seatbelt snaked down over her, pinning her, embracing her tightly to the seats, the door slammed shut and locked, and the scout peeled out of the driveway as fast as he was physically able.

Once outside of the suburb that Vicky and her bastard of a father lived in, Sam dissolved into a fit of sobbing tears and held her broken hand in extreme agony. She didn't fight against the feelings of comfort the others swaddled around her, nor did she fight when Bumblebee tilted the seat back, played soft flute music, and lulled her into the sleep of one that did not wish to remain in the waking world for fear of its evils.

* * *

William Lennox was having a hard time discerning whether he was more confused, anxious, or terrified. At present he was leaning more towards the anxious side as the confusion and terror were very slowly sliding away from his sudden awakening not even an hour ago.

He'd been in a deep sleep within his quarters at the base, dreaming of his beautiful baby girl in the arms of Sarah, when what sounded like the entire building collapsing breached his sleep-addled brain. He had jolted from bed, along with every other man and woman on base, and rushed towards the sounds of explosions and crashing metal. He'd been one of the ones first humans introduced to the Autobots and fought next to them many times already.

As one of the only few surviving members of the first human strike against the Decepticons he'd been one of the few trying to aid Samantha Witwicky and Michael Banes in getting the other humans to be more accepting of their new alien allies. He'd even become good friends with Ironhide, the gruff weapon's specialist. Yet even he was made uncomfortable, possibly even _frightened_, by what he that within the confines of the Autobot's hangar.

Apparently the Autobots could be just as malevolent as the Decepticons.

The 'bots had turned their hangar into a virtual war zone. They all shifted their stances like restless lions barred behind their cage doors. One moment they would be firing off their cannons at the walls as if discouraging any enemy from continuing, the next they would be motionless and seeming to stare at a far-away point as if they were not even in the same room as the humans.

No human dared to move within the confines of the hangar, not even himself.

They may have been mechanical, but the rage emanating from the Autobots was so tangible that it made his stomach roll. Their optics glowed bright blue before flickering on and off with the same crimson that marked Decepticons as what they were. Everyone was silent even after the 'bots had calmed down enough to pull themselves from their battle-ready stances.

"Major William Lennox." Ratchet intoned, his tone deceptively calm. The sound of it sent chills down his hardened spine.

"Uhm, yes?" He stepped forward and very cautiously became the first human into the 'war zone' the mechs had just created.

"Bring your Doctor Jenkins in here." His brows furrowed, but he feared asking the medic why he had need of the good doctor. Major or not, he was not anxious to defy the warrior medic that towered over him and weighed more than even his alt-mode.

"Samantha will be here within the hour;" was the only explanation he needed. It was simply easier to go along with whatever the mechs said in accordance to the girl than to argue about it.

As he and Rob, having had the same initial petrified face upon their rude awakening, organized the humans, Will thought back onto the time directly following the battle in Mission City. It still gave him the creeps thinking about it.

He and his men had initially approached where the Autobots had gathered, with the exception of Jazz, who had lain as a dead shell on the street and Bumblebee, who was whirling, clicking, and trying to untie himself from the chains Michael had tied about his torso during the fight, but stopped dead in their tracks when the bots had taken up defensive positions. It had taken them an astonishingly long period of time to realize that the mechs had, within the confines of their base programming, seen _them_ as the threats and not oncoming Decepticons.

It wasn't long after that revelation that Will had realized, too, that they were being considered a threat not to the Autobot faction, but the young, high school girl named Sam.

It was only with the appearance of Mike and the slightly tense Bumblebee that the 'bots calmed enough to allow the human medics into their defensive circle. When it was suggested that Sam be taken to a hospital just outside of the city Will had been certain at the time that the poor medics were going to get blown to a thousand microscopic pieces. Instead Rob had been able to recover enough to suggest that the girl be taken within Ratchet, as he had claimed the alt-form of a Search and Rescue Hummer, back to the Hoover Dam.

Ever since that fateful day the mechs had been getting closer and closer to the delicate looking girl.

Nobody missed how the mechs were always aware of where the girl was. Nobody could deny the fact that whenever the humans entered a room that Samantha was in the 'bots would momentarily go onto the defensive. Nor could they ignore that the girl had more power over any of the 'bots than even Optimus seemed to.

It had been suggested by some higher-ups that the girl be taken away from the war zone initially. It hadn't gone over well. Will had been forced to smooth out the ruffled feathers, or rather the subspaced blasters. From what little Sam had told him that first night she'd woken up after the battle he'd at least partially accepted that the girl would no longer have a normal life. She was even more a part of this war than any human could be, possibly even any of the 'bots.

Now he felt like a little kid again anxiously awaiting the arrival of a favored relative of his. Only this time the relative wasn't coming to visit due to wanting to see everyone. No, the girl was being brought in under duress.

And neither he nor any of the other humans would see a good night's sleep until Sam was attended to.

* * *

Samantha woke up to a gentle tugging at her chest. She tried to roll away from it wanting to fall back into blissful darkness where nothing could get her, but the tugging turned to an outright restraint.

"Please, Sam." Bumblebee's voice was softly spoken, almost pleading when it reached her ears. "You must get up."

"No, Bee." She whimpered, the pain in her fingers coming back to her with consciousness. Still she didn't want to be awake. "Don't make me. Please. Just let me go back to sleep. Please. Please." Tears were rolling down her cheeks again as she recalled over and over again Glenn grabbing her, slapping her, thinking about what he intended to do to her.

"Not now, Sweetspark." Ratchet's voice broke through her haze. His voice was equally soft. She could feel the warmth of their Sparks leaking into her consciousness as they sought to completely shelter her. "Doctor Jenkins is waiting for you."

The female doctor was a nice woman, if not a little bit skittish around her. Any time she had needed a check-up according to Ratchet, the poor woman was called in and watched like a hawk for any signs of doing something wrong. Within a month's time Ratchet was expecting to have his programming completely updated and made compatible for human care. For the present, however, Kristen Jenkins was the preferred doctor to her.

"No." Sam cried piteously anyway. She didn't want to do anything besides dissolve into unawareness once more.

"C'mon, Sweetspark." Mudflap's voice coaxed her even as he and his twin came to stand just outside of Bee's driver's side door. She looked at them through red-rimmed eyes. "We jus' want ta see ya pain free." Warmth and devotion swelled through her along with their barely contained concern.

"Please." Skids added to his brother's plea. "Ain't nobody here but us. Jus' let the Doc take a look an' den we can go watch a movie. Heh? Sound good?"

Sam remained silent for a short time more, just staring at the two through the open door. She knew that one way or another she'd end up getting checked over by the female doctor. She wanted to fight them over it, she really did, but the 'bots weren't shy about manhandling her or getting high-handed with her. If she were anyone else she knew that they wouldn't be so…desperate.

With a resigned sigh Sam nodded her head in ascent. She felt the relief of her acceptance rush her like a warm wind hitting the mechs surrounding where she still sat inside of Bumblebee. It was only with a bit of a whimper at the pain in her hand that she got out of her Guardian.

It was Jazz who plucked her up off of her feet and carried her towards where she knew the base doctor awaited her.

* * *

Sam endured the quiet, nervous ministrations of Doctor Jenkins even as the 'bots pretended not to fret over her. When the woman had set her fingers into place and casted them to heal properly, she was immediately taken up into the servos of none other than Optimus Prime and carried into the room she shared with them all when she stayed.

She fell asleep snuggled up onto Optimus's spark chamber, bundled double into a comforter sheet.

While she slept she had no idea of the actions taking place around her. As the 'bots continued to shower their unbridled emotions onto her seeking to calm her frayed nerves, they worked as one well oiled machine, no pun intended.

By the time they had accomplished the appropriate hackings and planted the appropriate trace codes they were all inwardly smirking. Even Optimus, proclaimed Prime of the Autobots, saw nothing wrong in their actions. Had he not placed the protocol to do no physical harm to humans, he very cheerily would have tortured the fleshling known as Glenn Mathewson and allowed his soldiers and friends to join in for what he had attempted to do and had done to their little Sweetspark.

As it was they initiated a plan that would work just as well, if not less satisfying for them.

* * *

It was no more than two days later that Sam could be found hiding out in the Autobot hangar, snuggled up on her sofa reading a book when a laughing Robert Epps and William Lennox came bounding into the room.

"Turn on Channel 3 news." Rob cheered even as he reached for the remote.

Before he could get within five feet of it, the flat screen television set before the sofa flickered on and switched from one of the music channels to the requested news station. Sam turned her head to look over the back of the sofa and grinned up at Ironhide. Since 'the incident' as it had come to be known at the base, the goings-on before she'd arrived having been relayed to her when she'd woken up the next morning, Ironhide had been her constant companion. Most of the 'bots had other matters to attend to, but they as well didn't leave her for very long.

To everyone's surprise, though they weren't sure if it was more pleasant or worrisome, the twins were mostly silent and acted out none of their normal pranks. Half of the base was expecting something like World War III coming their way…like their obedience was some apocalyptic sign.

Ironhide gestured her to turn her attention back to the television with a flick of his metal wrist. When she did as told, Sam felt her book slip from her good hand and plop down into her lap. Her eyes trained onto the scene playing out before her even as her ears tuned out everything to center on the newswoman speaking in the background.

On the screen, none other than Glenn was being carted out of his luxury home, his hands cuffed behind his back, and officers flanking both sides of him. Vicky was crying into her mother's shoulder in the open doorway even as Glenn continued to shout at the men, though his voice was muted.

"It appears that Glenn Mathewson, known better to the Underground as 'Big Papa', has finally been caught red-handed not by Tranquility's finest, but by Federal Agents. Mister Mathewson has been charged with drug dealing, smuggling, arms dealership, and most recently, hacking into NASA's mainframe to acquire classified information on the latest shuttle designs. Mathewson's computer has been confiscated, but we have it on good word that plans and schematics have been located on his computer and as of yet unsent correspondence with rival countries.

"Mathewson is currently looking at between fifty to life in prison. His daughter and wife will remain within the safety of their own home for now until something can be arranged for their care. This is Angela Harte with Channel 3 News. There will be an update on this story at eleven."

Open-mouthed, Sam gaped at the television for a moment more before standing. Like a shot she took off around the sofa. Ironhide stood at the ready, his servo outstretched to allow her to climb up onto it. Once she was within his grasp he cuddled her close to his spark. She cried into his warm chest plates, the sobs coming progressively harder.

"Thank you." She whispered once she could breathe, knowing that it was he and the other mechs that had sought retribution for her.

"Anything for you, Sweetspark." The mech replied, caressing her spine with his overly large finger. "Anything." Was whispered from his vocal processors, but held no less meaning.

* * *

**Notes:** Howdy y'all. Sorry about being such a poor updater. I really did intend to update sooner, but I can no longer maintain that kind of schedule as I did with the first book. I do promise, though, to try and update at least once every month, maybe more if I find the time. I sincerely hope that these chapters live up to what y'all desire.

I'd like to have ten (10) reviews on this chapter before I post the next one. Thank you for sticking with me and giving such great feedback. Just keep sticking with me.

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Transformers.


	6. Chapter 6: To Live In Denial

**Chapter Six: To Live In Denial**

"Where's Sam?" Robert Epps asked as he flicked through the booted channels the mechs had programmed to run on said girl's television at the base. A part of him was insanely jealous of the kid, always getting the best of everything electronic that any self-respecting geek would drool over, but the rest of him pitied her. He and Will were under the same belief that Miss Witwicky was almost surgically attached to the Autobots.

"She is presently seeing to the twin's punishment for frightening one of the newest advisors sent by your President." Ratchet informed him as he walked with a surprisingly smooth gait into the hangar. Rob was always amazed by the stealth which the Autobots or any Cybertronian for that matter harnessed.

"Oh yeah. I heard about that." He snickered, recalling quite clearly the cellophane trap the latest advisor, a Mister Harold Garibaldi, had found himself ensnared by. Every one of the current 'NEST' team, meaning 'Networked Elements, Supporters and Transformers', had found the poor man trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey just outside of the men's bathrooms. According to the base gossip, the twins had overheard the man saying something rather insulting directed towards a certain Samantha Jane Witwicky.

Until that moment Rob had thought that no human being could be _that_ stupid.

He'd been wrong.

While he and Will joked about the entire situation with the girl in question, there was always an undertone of nervousness on the topic. Ever since Will had relayed to him, with Samantha and the 'bot's permission, that the girl had a kind of nanite passed down through the generations of her family that set the mechs base programming to 'overprotective' and 'kill-at-any-sign-of-duress' he had come to the conclusion within moments that the girl would be an irreplaceable object within this war. In the months since Mission City it had become very clear to anyone with eyes that the girl held the title of 'Most Important Human' and that every other member of the human race was in very grave danger should she come to harm.

A shiver snaked down his spine at the thought of anything happening to that girl.

"Are you well, Robert?" Ratchet questioned, a lilt to his tone implying genuine curiosity. "Your core body temperature has not changed, yet your body spasmed as if cold."

"Nah. I'm all right." He assured the giant medic with a little wave of his hand, determined to keep his thoughts to himself. If Sam could think these same thoughts, as he doubted she was foolish or ignorant enough to bypass them herself, and maintain her calm, then he could as well.

"Hey, how 'cum she's the one giving the twins a time-out and not Prime?" Mike asked as he appeared behind the sofa Rob was currently occupying.

"Because the Bumper-Car Twins only ever listen to her when they do something bad." Rob laughed, his head shaking with mirth. "O.P. can get them to follow orders when they all know it's necessary, but Sam seems to be the only one able to make that dynamic duo truly repent."

It was true enough. The last time the twins had ticked the girl off enough, despite the fact that she too would join in on their fun occasionally, she had them both cleaning the entire base with giant scrubbers and extended hoses. And the two seemed genuinely sorry for what they'd done!

Rob hadn't been the only one with a slack jaw that afternoon.

"And she's also the only one that can get the jump on Ironhide in a snowball fight." Mike snorted behind the sofa.

"Say that again!" Rob thundered as his gaze drifted to where the Weapon's Specialist sat in his alt-form, up until this point entirely content to be silent.

"That's right." Mike laughed, his eyes twinkling with mirth at the knowledge. "Remember how Sam took Bumblebee, Ironhide, and the Bumper-Car Twins up to Canada for Christmas at her uncle's place?"

"Yep."

It was presently New Years so it was extremely difficult to bypass recalling that 'field trip' as the girl had dubbed it. Sam had all but ordered General Morshower to give the Autobots leave of the base for three days. They'd boarded one of the cargo planes that same day. It had been blissfully quiet at the base, the remaining mechs for the most part slipping off into recharge in an attempt to recoup from all the stress they were put under. When they had returned, the twins had been pounding their fists together, chattering away at how 'wicked awesome' the trip was, Ironhide was radiating a sense of peace no one had ever seen before, and Bumblebee was all but refusing to let Sam out of his servos.

"Bee has the footage. I laugh every time I see it."

"See what?" Sam queried as she sauntered into the room wearing black jeans and a pale blue hoodie. Skids and Mudflap trailed behind her, their heads hung low in shame. Even further behind was Bumblebee and Optimus, the two mechs seemingly proud of the girl.

"The downfall of Ironhide." Mike cheered earning a grumble from Ironhide and a chuckle from the girl. "Hey, Bee? You wanna show Rob how truly merciless you all are once you get the advantage over Ole Ironaft?"

"Careful, Mike." Sam hissed, her own body coming to cower behind the bigger teen. Rob knew that she was just putting on an act…after all, she was the one human guaranteed to never have to worry for her health within the Autobots' presence. Still, just as the 'bots tended to play at roles, so did she.

Then again, he had seen her truly sheepish that one time she'd stolen one of the all terrain vehicles, trashed it and given herself a concussion, and had to face not only the wrath of Ratchet, but the other mechs as well. Even the twins hadn't been laughing.

Ironhide rolled forward with a loud growl of his engine before commencing in his transformation. Now Rob wasn't an overly religious man, but he had to wonder if man were made in God's image, who made Cybertronians? His heart all but stuttered thinking about it. The mechs were almost God-like themselves, what with their massive size, regal bearings, and sheer age. He'd mistakenly asked Jazz one day after investigating a possible Decepticon sighting how old he was. The saboteur had been silent for a moment before coming to a conclusion.

'Ya know dat movie wit' the T-Rex? _Jurassic Park_?' Jazz had quizzed back. He had nodded his head. 'Ya need ta times dat by more than one-hundred million years more.'

Rob had stuttered, dropped his jaw several times in an effort to say something…anything to that, but instead walked away after nodding his head to either wrap his head around those numbers or simply keep in mind that Jazz and the others were just really old. It saved his grief to simply go with the latter option.

"Awe, Ironhide." Mike jeered, a wide smile ripping apart his face. "Did the aliens forget to remove the anal probe?"

"Mike!" Sam shouted, slapping the boy's shoulder while trying to cover up her own laughter at the same time. "That's not nice!"

"I think I stepped on Hide's poor itty-bitty ego." The jock continued to laugh. Sam couldn't help herself and began to laugh, too, though hers was coming out as a kind of snorting through her hands which she covered her mouth with. Rob wasn't fighting his own smirk. These two teens were one of the few beings on base willing to taunt to walking time-bomb.

"Hey kid, it ain't the size, it's…" Hide stopped for a moment, seeming to contemplate smoothing before Rob was almost certain that there was a smirk fighting to show on his relatively immobile face plates. "Nah. It's the size."

Everyone erupted into uproarious laughter. Sam even began to keel over backwards she was snorting so hard. Before his mind could really perceive the movements, Bumblebee slipped his hand behind the girl, cupped her gently, and hoisted her up towards his chest. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything possibly hazardous to his health when the girl quickly calmed and snuggled into the scout's chest plates.

Even from where he stood he could hear her jaw cracking yawn.

"Sam." Optimus's deep, baritone voice shook Epps to the core. The soldier in him demanded to stand at immediate attention at that voice while the civilian part of him wanted to run and hide under the bed. The boss 'bot was a force to be reckoned with even when he took on a non-threatening pose. "You still are not recharging well." It was a fact, not a question.

The girl groaned. "Can we not talk about this?"

"Yes, Sam, we will talk about this." Ratchet replied curtly, yet with a slight soft twinge to his tone. "These nightmares you have been suffering…"

Before Rob could even contemplate whether he wanted to listen in to the conversation or not, Skids and Mudflap were ushering he and Mike aside, chatting excitedly about nothing in particular.

He followed along with the babble partially, but was entirely aware of what the others were chastising the girl about. Even before the incident with Glenn Mathewson not a month ago Sam had been having horrific night terrors. It was getting to the point that most of the NEST personnel were becoming adept at ignoring the sudden explosions during the middle of the night. The Autobots hadn't really made a disaster of their hangar since 'the incident', but that didn't mean that there weren't new charred marks on the floors, walls, or ceilings whenever they somehow received a kind of backlash from Sam's nightmares.

He'd accidently overheard Sam crying into her guardian's chassis once when he'd been heading towards the mess hall to grab his lunch while he could. He'd been frozen solid by those heart-wrenching sobs. He had never been able to stand seeing a woman cry and he thanked whatever Supreme Being there was that his beloved fiancé was not an overly emotional woman in those regards. Before walking away he'd understood a few words coming out of her later hiccupped sobs of Cybertron, death, and so many eyes staring down at her.

Rob was drawn from his remorse for the girl when the twins began to argue with each other over some senseless topic. On instinct his right hand lashed out, pulled Mike away with him, and ducked behind the television stationed for Sam and Mike's use.

Several different parts of him raged for dominance. One part wanted to join into the fight, another desired to cower in fear, one just wanted to watch with awe, but the most prevalent emotion was one of annoyance.

So he simply settled for rolling his eyes at the duo's antics.

* * *

"Freeze bumper cars!" Sam yelled with an accusatory finger pointed at her favorite, destructive, and diminutive twins. Almost immediately they locked up their systems. She laughed from where she now stood at the base of Optimus's feet. They were in the middle of fighting each other. One had one fist positioned and ready to pound the other while the other had a leg hiked up slightly. She laughed at them from where she stood by their sides. She was nearly twice as short as they were even though they were the smallest of the 'bots and not nearly as bulky. Reaching up on tip-toes she might be able to touch their chests.

"Ah, cum on!" Mudflap began indignantly when she refused to open her mouth to unfreeze them. It had been a fun game to play with them ever since she had first met them. She knew that they agreed, too, otherwise they would not be playing along with her. They ragged on her for the game as if she really was physically controlling them. "Unstick us!"

"Yeh! We was jus' havin' a lil fun!" Twiddle-dumb piped in. "We been good all day."

Sam scrunched her face in mock consideration, but then shook her head.

"Don't you lie to me." She chastised them, her hands slamming down onto her hips with consternation. "I know you didn't forget already what you did to Mister Garibaldi and the punishment that still awaits you both." Their heads drooped slightly at that.

Oh yes, she knew what the twins had done. She also couldn't bring herself to truly be mad at them because she was well aware of what the old badger had called her behind her back.

'She's a pity-case with one step out of prostitution and another into psychotics. With the mood swings I see she has suffered I have to wonder if she deals in narcotics and hallucinogens as well.' He had said with a sneer to one of the 'guards' he had been sent in with.

So after reaming the twins for disrespecting a political figure that had recently been hired on to aid in an easier transition with the new NEST division and then giving them the option to either personally and formally apologize to the man or manual labor for the next two weeks (they'd both sent warm feelings to her as they chose the latter option), she'd had them both kneel before her so that she could kiss they face plates where their cheeks would normally be. She'd thanked them both quietly before making her way back to her normal hang-out spot.

Too bad the damned mechs had to corner her for her inability to obtain a full night's sleep for the past couple of months now.

"You know what, stay like that for the next few hours. At least it'll be quiet." She chuckled before darting off towards the entrance of the hangar, knowing full well that this was all a part of the game.

"Ta 'ell wit' dis! Get 'er!" Skids yelled, unfreezing himself.

Sam laughed giddily as Mudflap's fingers wrapped around her waist and deposited her onto the mech's shoulder. From where she sat, one of Mudflap's hands raised to the side that was not next to his head so she wouldn't fall, she flicked one of his antennae. His crooked blue optics looked up to her.

"Thanks for…" She trailed off, jerking her head towards Epps and Mike who were now meandering back to the sofa. She really didn't want the other humans, not even the Autobots, knowing the full extent of her night terrors. "Well, you know."

"Sure t'ing, Sweetspark." Skids assured her, his own hand coming up behind her to caress her back. A shiver went through her as she felt the tingles of all the 'bots' awareness's touch onto hers. It was becoming so much stronger now. It was getting so that every breath she took the mechs were reading as if it was her last and their emotions were swirling into one with her own. Sometimes it got so hard to tell the difference between them anymore that she had to close her eyes and concentrate.

"We'd do anyt'ing fo you." Mudflap assured her so seriously that an almost fear skittered across her consciousness.

"I know." She breathed out with a heavy sigh. She was eighteen years old they treated her like she was a toddler…actually it as even worse than that. The connection they all shared with her was swiftly becoming something so grand that it was beginning to scare her. She loved them all dearly, but they went beyond being overprotective. She knew that they had to be since she carried the power of the Allspark, or at least was a way to channel it, but they had a habit of trying to do what they believed to be best for her even if it meant that she didn't have a life anymore. She had already had to give up paintball and equine racing, two things she had loved doing during the summers. They were willing to take away _much_ more.

"Ya eat anythin' taday?" Skids asked her.

"I had eggs and toast this morning and then a can of Ravioli when I got here." That amount was more than she wanted to eat. She normally ate only one meal a day and that was late at night and a small meal at that. Recently she'd been feeling less and less hungry. The only reason she'd eaten anything at all this day was because Ratchet would have flipped a gasket on her if she didn't.

"So have you glitch-heads done anything else today that I have to cover you for?"

"Nothin'…yet." Skids assured her. "We wan' a rematch on PGR. Ya cheated las' time."

"If anyone cheats it's you two! I'm not the super advanced robot alien!" She bopped her fists weakly onto Mudflap's head. "In the game you aren't supposed to be able to get your car to do a back flip over the barrier!"

"An ya an' suppose ta win when we do it!" Mudflap laughed, squeezing her side gently, effectively tickling her. She stopped their shenanigans immediately by pulling her arms around her sides.

"Ya goin' down dis time, girl." Skids promised.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." She promised, a wink pointed towards the two humans that were already pulling out the game and smirking at her.

* * *

Samantha sat on top of Optimus's hood on the bluff overlooking Tranquility with a triumphant smirk on her face.

"How'd ya do it?" Skids kept demanding along with his twin. "I don' git it!"

"How does she do it ev'ry time?" Mudflap cried indignantly in the alternate form he shared with his brother.

"Stop your belly-aching." Mike chuckled from where he sat at the front tip of Jazz's hood. "You two should have known better than to try and match her. She's got that whole freaky mojo going on in anything she does. Heck, I can't even bring her to play football with the guys for fun 'cuz she'd somehow manage to make several touchdowns without thinking."

Ironhide's engine growled from beside Optimus and Sam could feel his apprehension through their bond.

"She shouldn't be playing those games as it is, Mike." She rolled her eyes at this, knowing the argument that was going to arise. Being in physical contact with her, the Prime was the first to become aware of her annoyance and swaddled her with calm and affection. Reluctantly she found herself becoming less tense and relaxing back into his warm metal plates. "She could get hurt. You know better than to drag her into another situation where the Hatchet wouldn't let her out of the med-bay until every one of you slagged glitches had been submitted to the tortures of his wrench."

Ratchet harrumphed in response, but otherwise remained silent.

Sam conceded that Ratchet wasn't _that_ bad, but she had seen him wield his 'wrench of doom' more than once when the twins had finally upset him enough. It would have been almost humorous if she hadn't felt the side effects of his annoyance and rage. As it was she hightailed it out of Ratchet's proclaimed med-bay before any of the mechs could shutter an optic.

"'Hide." She growled out, fighting against the sudden onslaught of soothing feelings being sent to her from all of the bots. "I am a grown adult whether you deem me to be or not and I won't tolerate being treated like a child. I don't want you all coddling me. I won't die from a little bruise or a paper cut."

At the mere mention of death coming to her she felt so many emotions swamp her that she actually clenched her skull between her hands as if that action would keep the mental pain at bay. Gawd, it hurt so bad! It felt her skull was being smashed into miniscule bits, hit by agonizing hit.

Feelings of loathing, pure sorrow, distress, nausea, and a few that she had never come to know personally before overwhelmed her. Sam felt sick to her stomach. She could hear voices in her head that weren't her own speaking in a language she didn't understand. In her distress she whimpered and curled into a ball atop Optimus's hood. She didn't see the other humans, Lennox and Epps included, backing away from the suddenly clustering Autobots. The tension in the air was staggering.

The bots had come out of their terrestrial disguises and circled around Optimus, realizing too late that their emotions had been too much for their Sweetspark. They had not meant to allow those feelings onto her gentle, fragile soul, but she had still been connected to them when they had been attempting to calm her fraying nerves.

"Hush now." Optimus cooed to her as gently as he could, forcing his Spark to radiate a sense of calm he did not feel. "We are sorry, Sam. Shh."

Bumblebee plucked his charge as gently as he was able from Optimus's hood and gripped her close to his spark chamber. His processors quickly took in Sam's withdrawn state and automatically began to play out Lugia's Song from his amplifiers. He had heard her listen to the song many times before falling into her recharge periods and knew the calming affect it had upon her.

After half an hour of constant petting and cuddling the mechs were able to get Sam calmed down once more. The other humans returned to the main group once the bots had retaken their vehicle forms, but stayed quiet.

As the New Year was brought in by the illuminating fireworks that were so easily seen from the bluff, the decision was made that under no circumstances were they to bring up any conversation that might instigate another 'attack'.

For that Sam was grateful. She decided that just maybe living in denial might be best for them all…even if they couldn't avoid the truth forever.

* * *

**Notes****:** Hey y'all. Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter will re-introduce you to Daniela as she and Sam head to Mission City to recruit another dancer. The next chapter should be much more sedate and somewhat humorous.

I would like ten (10) reviews on this chapter before the next is posted. Thank you and I hope you keep reading.

**Disclaimer****:** I do NOT own Transformers.


	7. Chapter 7: Of Dreams and Darkness

**Chapter Seven: Of Dreams and Darkness**

Samantha just barely resisted the urge to bash her skull into the, as she knew, _very_ hard steering wheel before her. All the while within her mind she was chanting for Daniela to hurry her butt up and get out of her apartment before Jazz's interrogation caused her to have a mini aneurism.

Without Bumblebee around, who was hard enough to handle when he desired to know something that she was keeping from him, Jazz had become her surrogate babysitter for the evening. If she didn't absolutely _need_ to head into Mission City with Daniela she would have parked her own tush into her bed and fallen asleep for what little amount of time she could wheedle away from the night-terror gremlins.

All of the Autobots had been getting progressively more and more anxious as her sleeping patterns grew worse. They had been frequent enough before the incident between her and Glenn Mathewson, but that nightmarish experience seemed to jog her mind into a perpetual state of ever-changing Hell. Every night without fail she would have at least one nightmare that would send her catapulting into horrible fits of screaming and thrashing. Once she'd actually been sleeping in Optimus's cab and he'd had to restrain her with his belts to keep her from hurting herself. When she awoke she'd be sobbing. She'd return to a restless sleep hours later with hot tear tracks running down her cheeks.

"Speak, Samantha." Jazz commanded, all hint of his normally fun-loving personality gone. Sam knew the tone. It was one of those no nonsense tones that parents used on their kids when the children tried to sneak in after curfew or something like that.

"Someone will hear you." She stated with conviction, though she knew well and good that it was a lie. They both knew what she was doing and Jazz was having none of it. The seatbelt hugged her tighter, a nip of pain biting into her chest where the not-vinyl belt met her ribcage. Jazz didn't return her barb, knowing full well that she was stalling. Any kind of conversation she could get going to divert the 'bots from the topic was fine by her.

Unfortunately the 'bots were quick learners. It had worked the first couple of times of course, but after about five times with different mechs they had come to the realization that she simply knew that if she could get into an argument with them then the topic of her dreams would be dropped if only briefly. So in turn they'd refused to rise to the occasion and let her stew in her own juices.

Damned advanced species with supercomputers for brains.

Sam settled for watching a ray of light dance between the boughs of a tree not far away. She could play their game back and keep quiet, but unlike them she was a more nervous person. Tension would eat at her until she could get them to make some kind of noise, anything at all, to break up the monotony. Never would she reveal what her dreams were of, but it took so long to work up the utter despair and self-disgust to throw their way through the bond that she almost thought of telling them.

Almost.

"Sam," Jazz implored, surprising her by breaking will before she had to make him feel guilty for bringing the night-terror topic up, "Please, just speak to me. To us. We all care for you. You are our salvation, our hope, our friend, our baby sister, our Sweetspark. We only want peace for you, but we can't help you if you don't speak."

_Now why did he have to make me cry?_

Sam's eyes drifted towards the radio from the ray of light she had previously been trying to manipulate with her mind, a hopeless endeavor at self-distraction, and smiled very softly. It was a sorrowful expression that she had begun to see looking in the mirror every morning.

"That's just it, Jazz." She spoke softly, forcing the words not to get caught up in her throat. "You can't help me. None of you can."

"But we want to try."

Sam shook her head slowly, closed her eyes, and let her mind replay the dream she'd had the night before and every night before that for the past week.

She'd been wearing sheer silver pants in her dream that trailed behind her feet like a kind of veil that you'd normally see on a wedding dress. Her shirt had been a large white cloth woven about her torso like a sarong leaving her back and bellybutton naked. The air tickled through her loose golden hair and cool metal met the warmer flesh of her bare feet.

Upon looking around she'd thought that she was in a kind of warehouse. The place was built on epic proportions, Cybertronian size, and the air within was crisp. If she breathed out hot air she could see a white cloud of condensation form. Goosebumps pebbled upon her tanned skin. Taking in another lungful of air she could practically taste the fabricated metal and even hint at burning rubber.

She'd walked for at least half an hour through the building. It was dark, lit only by soft lights imbedded within the floors where they connected to the walls. From what she could see, the place was in shambls. Singed and melted metal made up at least three quarters of everything she saw, the single remaining quarter barely holding the ruined parts up. In several places the floors were falling out from under her and the walls had come down more than once behind her. The farther in she walked, the more nauseating the scent of oil, burning rubber, and fire got.

She'd just entered a new room when she tripped over something about her size if not a little smaller. Moisture pooled under her hands and knees where she had gone sprawling and it didn't take more than a few seconds for Sam to realize that the moisture did not come from any part of her own body.

Looking back, Sam felt her heart lodge in her throat even as her stomach dropped straight down to the pits of her very being.

Lying sprawled out upon its stomach behind her was a tiny metallic form. Its body was slender and consisted of very little metal. The thickest parts, though even those were quite small, were its head and torso, especially around it's chest cavity where she instinctively knew a Spark lay. To her horror, Sam also knew without having to check that said Spark was as cold and non-living as her grandfather's body lying in Tranquility Cemetery. The little one's optics, at one point in time probably shining a great gold had dimmed and flicked out of existence. A shiver snaked down her spine as the image of a human corpse flashed across her mind's eye, it's eyes staring sightlessly up at her.

Tears trickled down her heating cheeks as her fingers curled into the bright blue goop under them. The same blue liquid seeped out of every poor and orifice of the poor Cybertronian Sparkling, again she instinctively _knew_ that's what the being once was. Vomit threatened to make itself known when she added two and two together and came to the realization that she was literally standing in the baby's blood … _energon_ if her recollection of Cybertronian anatomy and history was anything to go by, lessons thrust onto her or accidently made notable for her by the Autobots she had come to know so well.

It was only in those few moments in which she stared on at the wilted form that she became aware of the fading sounds of cannon fire. Too many times in other dreams as well as real life had she come to know the sounds of battle as well as her own breathing. The remnants of a horrifying battle … no, genocide…lay before her while those responsible were fighting with decreasing vigor.

The distinctive sound of Cybertronian peds, better known as feet to humans, thundered from the corridor she had recently entered from. Her swollen, red eyes trained in on the mech that came to stand opposite her on the other side of the offlined Sparkling, and she felt another wave of anguish take over.

Sam closed her eyes and bid the dream to end. Within the confines of her mind she screamed for whatever God there was to have mercy upon her and show her no more.

No one was listening.

"Starshine." The word was choked and utterly defeated, rage hidden in the depths of the despair. Samantha shuddered with silent sobs as she cracked her eyes open to look up at the towering form of a being that had become all too familiar to her in these past months.

"Ironhide." She whimpered out, lips trembling.

He didn't hear her. Instead, her friend, his form similar to the one he had adopted on Earth, yet entirely foreign in concept, reached out with shaking servos and plucked the Sparkling from the ground, tucked it into his chassis close to his still thrumming Spark, and cried. No, she couldn't physically see any tears flow from his optics, yet she understood the hunched way he kneeled in the Sparkling's energon. He was shielding it's body from any outside force even when he understood that there was no protecting the little one any longer. It was the stance any parent took on whether their child was alive or not. It was instinctive, powerful, and unforgettable to any that were allowed to witness the maneuver.

The nightmare hadn't ended there, though.

A series of nightmarish images flickered across her vision like a movie reel. More dead bodies … _dead babies_. The wreckage that had once been the 'nursery' of the Sparklings. Poor souls lying in pieces and offlined around and within the building that they had fought with all of their might in the futile effort to protect the innocence inside. Warriors fighting each other in what, to any human at least, would have been called a berserker fashion. Cybertronians … Decepticons … slaughtering hundreds upon thousands of Sparklings.

The last image she saw were of optics so red and filled with malice that Samantha dropped to her knees and shielded her body, not caring that it was a dream and nothing could logically hurt her.

As she woke up screaming she also came to realize that those blood red optics had not belonged to Megatron. Even his optics were less sinister and far less insane than whoever or _what_ever it was that bore those horrendous eyes.

With a sigh Sam opened her eyes, fought back the tears, and retrained her eyes upon the ray of sunshine that she had pretended captivated her earlier. In a hushed, muted voice she spoke one word that she knew the saboteur would hear even though no human ear would be able to pick it up.

"Iacon."

The Pontiac literally stiffened where he idled in the parking lot just outside of Daniela's apartment complex. She had little doubt that he was wondering how she knew that name as they had _never_ taught her about the bloodbath that was Iacon, but he had no time to question her as Daniela chose that very moment to exit her building and make her way toward the Solstice.

Oh yes, she knew that they weren't finished with this particular conversation, but she also knew that no amount of prodding on the mech's part would get her to be more descriptive about the dream.

"Hey, girl." Sam just barely tempered the urge to wince at the word 'girl' as Daniela popped open the passenger side door of the Pontiac. After Glenn had said it that night with such malice the term kind of unnerved her. "Where's your Camaro? Isn't this Gabe's car?"

"Yeah, it's Gabe's." Sam smiled warmly towards the elder woman before making the appropriate motions that would signal to any outsider that she was driving when in reality it was little more than shadow movements. "I'm having my car serviced and since we had to go to Mission City today Gabe lent me his car for the day. He'll use my car when it's done."

All lies, but Daniela didn't have to know that.

In reality, Bumblebee, Ironhide, and three new Autobots, Longarm, Beachbreak, and Knockout, were currently investigating a Decepticon sighting on the coast of Guatemala. Just like with Skids and Mudflap, the three newest additions to the Autobot faction practically worshiped the ground she walked upon. Beachbreak was her best buddy of all three of them, however. Having taken on the form of a Sea-Doo Wave Pro Beachbreak was the smallest of any of them. While he was still bigger than she he was still able to fully embrace her in a two-armed hug unlike the bigger 'bots. He was a soft touch, but had a big voice. Despite his size, she always pictured him as grand as Optimus. His bravery was unparalleled.

The Autobots had come down separately yet within the same week of each other. Longarm had been the first. The big guy was normally quiet and sort of reserved, but he was always up for playing with her in the less populated side of the lake. The winch on the back of his alt-form was a heck of a lot of fun to jump from into the deeper tide pools. More than once Mike had joined them.

Knockout was like a mental mixture of The Green Arrow from the Marvel Comics and Vin Diesel. He was all power, speed, and cockiness. The only difference between him and the rest of the male species that simply believed themselves to be 'damned good' was that he _was_ 'damned good'. Knockout had skills and a flirtatious personality that never failed to make her smile. The green motorcycle seemed to make it his private mission to make her smile every chance he got.

In the past several weeks Decepticon sightings and incursions had become more and more regular. A few times when any of the 'bots had been away and made physical contact with the Decepticons she had woken up from her nightmares to the feeling of the Allspark's power dripping through her bonds with the parties injured. Depending upon how much Allspark power seeped from her and how far, Ratchet would demand bed rest for the rest of the day and Samantha couldn't bring herself to fight him on it. It seemed that distance and strength that the power took to be transferred weighed heavily upon her physical being. At first, when the Allspark was still new to her, she could function completely even after reviving Jazz or repairing the others. Recently, however, it was becoming increasingly more apparent that the Allspark was becoming truly one with her.

If one was to be depleted, so would the other.

If one was to be destroyed, so would…

_No._ Sam demanded of herself with a firm shake of her head trying desperately to dislodge her depressing thoughts. _I can't think like that. They'll figure something out. The Allspark is their life source now. It's older than human civilization. I'm not tied to it and it's not tied to me. When I die, they'll have their Allspark back. That's all there is to it._

Sam viciously throttled the little voice in the back of her head telling her that she was living in a delusion.

If it was a delusion, at least she could wallow in it for just a little while longer.

"I still can't believe that you really know those guys." Daniela smiled out the front windshield, oblivious to the inner battle Sam was having with herself. "They're all just so…I don't know. They're different I guess. And cute." The older woman tossed a wink her way.

"To you, maybe. To me they're just overzealous, overprotective, and entirely wacked out puppies. Especially the twins." Internally she sent a nudge of teasing friendship their way and received a mental noogie in return.

"What about Cameron? Come on, I've seen you blush around him more than once." Daniela jeered, not even noticing Sam's wince at the embarrassment of being caught flushing bright red whenever her guardian, her Bumblebee, activated his hologram.

"He's my wet dream." Sam conceded, not wanting to tell a whole lie. Of course she couldn't say; 'Oh yeah, Cameron is totally my dream guy. Like, literally. I dreamt him up and my car decided to take the mental picture I had designed and make it into his holographic self.' Oh yes, that would just go over _so_ well.

"He's all right I suppose." Daniela stated flatly, ignoring Sam's indignant huff. "Is Gabe single?"

Samantha laughed at that, also receiving the first signs of Jazz finally coming back to himself through way of their bond. He was slightly embarrassed, but mostly smug. His shock at her earlier word was placed on the proverbial backburner for the moment.

"Yes, they're all…single, I guess you could say. I've never had the pleasure of meeting any of their girls at least." There was a slight twinge there through their bond, but Samantha made herself ignore it in favor of continuing her conversation with Daniela. After all, it wasn't like she could just ask the Solstice what was going on in his processors. Like most everyone else, Daniela knew nothing of the Autobots and their 'silent' war against the Decepticons. "They're workaholics, though. Even if they wanted to date there are a few extenuating circumstances."

Yeah. A few. Like the fact that they were alien robots from a far away galaxy and were currently in the middle of a heated war between themselves and another faction of equally large and fearsome alien robots. Ever since she had come to know the Autobots she had realized very quickly that they rarely ever put their battle on the backburner. It seemed that only where she was concerned could they unwind their gears a little and breathe.

"You're no fun."

"And yet you still keep me around." Sam snickered as she scanned the semi-familiar horizon leading to the city she hadn't stepped foot in since her first encounter with the Autobots. "Shame on you."

The idle chatter continued between them all the way to the city.

* * *

She never really thought about how truly strange it would feel to return to the city that she had watched be destroyed, had even run through carrying the miniaturized version on the Allspark cube while missiles and debris flew above her head.

Mission City had been fully repaired since the claimed terrorist attack. People milled about with their normal routines as if nothing of consequence had occurred so many months ago. It had been the beginning of summer break when the Autobots first made their 'mass landfall' and now was April of the following year. It seemed impossible that the human mind really could wipe away all the horrors it had seen and deny every other warning signal it had gotten in favor of living in normalcy. It almost sickened her to think that she had once been one of them, able to easily brush aside any situation, be it good or bad, and continue on with life so easily, as if nothing ever happened, while at the same time making her envious.

Why couldn't she live in the delusion that everything was fine and things could go back to normal?

_Because the Fates are cruel witches._ Her subconscious supplied, the little devil on her shoulder supplying much darker, nasty words that she didn't dare even voice mentally.

Feeling her infringing despair and anger, the 'bots all rushed to soothe her. In seconds she was sighing out deeply as the warmth of her bonds with them swaddled her and calmed her fraying nerves.

_The shields aren't working._ Samantha surmised with an inward frown. For a time she'd been able to fabricate mental and emotional barriers that she could use to block the 'bots outward flowing emotions as well as keeping her own hidden, but it seemed that the longer she went being tied to Allspark, the harder it became to hide anything for the Cybertronians. _This is _so_ not good._

"There's the studio." Daniela pointed out giddily, oblivious to her turmoil. Once again Sam shook her head to clear it and turned into an available parking space not even a hundred feet away from the building's entrance.

"What's her name again?" She asked the older woman even as she pulled the picture out from the manila folder that she had settled between the driver's seat and the center console. Inside the folder was a mid-sized head-shot of a pretty red-head. Paper-clipped to the picture was a set of dance records, a resume, school averages, and competition scores.

"Kayla Reynolds. You competed against her last year I think. It was when you were 'freelancing'." Daniela even used air quotes around the freelancing bit. Sam chuckled and quickly skimmed over the profile.

Miss Reynolds was a talented girl, not even a year older than she, with a history of freelancing of her own. Sam could recall dancing against the girl just before finals that previous year. She was convinced that the other girl should have won, but the judges had apparently thought differently. Samantha was nothing if not impeccable in her form and chorography. Kayla had faltered once in her routine, performing a grand plie instead of a demi plie, and the judges had penalized her for it. Overall, though, Sam was certain that the other girl had had the better routine.

"Oh shush. You know Madame Lune wouldn't have let me go to that competition anyway because of its 'low standards'. Pft. Give me a break. I danced my butt of and I still barely beat the other competitors." Both she and Daniela rolled their eyes at the thought of all of their teacher's strutting about like she was the Queen of Everything. Madame Lune expected nothing but the best and settled for nothing beneath her so very high standards.

Which was why, by order of said woman, she and Daniela were recruiting Miss Kayla Reynolds for their studio in Tranquility.

Kayla Reynolds, as of that very moment, had no coach or sponsor and Madame Lune wanted her. Daniela was the businesswoman of the studio they danced at, The Golden Swan, while Sam had somehow became the spokeswoman for them all. It was up to Daniela to get the logistics across while she encouraged the possible dancers with her award winning personality.

Even she couldn't keep the snort of depreciation from coming out at that thought.

No, Samantha was used as a kind of incentive for other dancers. She was one of the best at the school, maybe even the best, and was known nationwide by other dancers and sponsors. Heck, she had even been propositioned by Pepsi once. Fortunately she had decided long ago that she wanted nothing to do with the fame and accompanying invasion of privacy following said fame. Good thing, too, since she now had a massive secret to hide.

As it was when other dancers saw her they knew that she was successful and that if they wanted to be successful, too, then joining the same studio as she would improve their chances. In all truth, Samantha didn't care overly much. As she worked at The Golden Swan and recruited more dancers her own training fee was minimal and did not have to fret about paying the exorbitant fees Madame Lune charged.

Ah, the price of fame.

"Well, come on." Sam sighed as she slid out of Jazz's smooth leather interior, not missing the way his frame shuddered as her bare-skinned legs ran the seats. It seemed that the barer her skin was, the more intense the leakage from the Allspark was when she came into contact with anything Cybertronian. She'd had enough of the dirty jokes pointed her way when that point had been made by a stoic Ratchet several months ago to last a lifetime. "We have an appointment to keep."

"Right." Daniela stretched for just a short moment before walking off with Sam in the direction of the building.

* * *

Jazz was still processing the single word Samantha had spoken barely an hour ago when he caught a hint of mischief leaking through his bond to their Sweetspark. While he had no visual confirmation of what the little human was plotting visually, possibly even acting out within the building he had seen Her enter and been monitoring Her from, he was well aware that when She got that particular itch in Her systems, she could be a true juvenile delinquent.

:: She is at it again. :: Bumblebee chuckled through the comm. he had opened with him.

:: It is a wonder that She has not been injured in many of Her stunts. :: Jazz

:: Skids and Mudflap are poor influences upon Her. :: Bumblebee verbalized with a nearly predatory growl.

:: Yes they are, but She is also a positive influence upon them. That aside, do you honestly believe that even those two would allow Her to be injured in any way? :: Jazz

The silence on the other end of the line was enough of an answer for Jazz.

Pondering for a moment, Jazz tried to recall when it was that he and the other Autobots had begun to refer to their Sweetspark in such an, for a lack of a better word, _important_ way. His data banks could rightly display to him the exact time and day in which any of them had begun to emphasize Samantha's very being, but for the life if him he could not justly say _why_.

True, She had revived him, brought him back from the brim of the Well of Sparks. Yet, in the beginning, Samantha had been just that. She had been simply human with a great gift bestowed upon Her. Yet in the very short time that they had all begun to know Her, begun to _feel_ Her, She had become something _more_. Samantha had become something beyond them and above them; a being that they intensely understood held their Sparks in the palms of her fleshy little hands. She was beyond simply human. She was beyond being the Allspark's conduit.

She was quickly and efficiently, even without knowing it, becoming their new Allspark.

In a sense, She was serving as a deity in Her own right.

For a short time Jazz contented himself with the silence before he could stand it no more and opened a private comm. with Optimus Prime.

:: Prime? :: Jazz

:: Yes old friend? :: Optimus

:: Samantha knows of Iacon. :: Jazz

This particular silence was not a welcomed one. Though Jazz shared no bond with his commander, his Prime, he knew that the elder 'bot was equally unnerved by this recent development.

Iacon, once a Cybertronian city equivalent to Earth's _Atlantis_, had been a city of ages. Iacon had been a city of towering building made of a high density, golden metalloid even thicker than that which encased every Cybertronian's Spark. Spires and towers arched up to the stars as if reaching for them, trying to draw them closer to any around in order to admire their beauty. Iacon had been a city of wonders, of grand achievements, and of unparalleled grandeur. Scientific minds from galaxies around congregated within the city's walls to hold council with each other. Even when the caste system had been in full force, a time that Jazz shuddered to recall to his processors, Iacon had been a beacon of pride for all of Cybertron and her neighboring worlds.

Then, within one nightmarish cycle, it had been destroyed.

Jazz could still recall it clearly. He brought up the data banks of that cycle, long since buried away into the recesses of his processor, and narrowly restrained the urge to purge his tanks. There had been so much destruction. So much death.

And they had all been utterly clueless to the decimation of Iacon until it was far too late.

Jazz had lost friends, comrads, and even what he humans would call 'family'. Some had lost more. Ironhide, the old scrapper, despite all of his blustering and firing off, was a truly wounded mech.

And poor Bumblebee…

:: The Allspark is feeding Her the history of Cybertron. :: Optimus surmised after a long interval of continued silence and contemplation. At Jazz's silent nudge for an explaination, the Prime sighed through his intakes, a habit no doubt learned from one of the humans they had come to surround themselves with. :: We have all sensed the change in Her. The Allspark is truly becoming one with Samantha. In time I believe that it will become entirely impossible to separate the two from each other. ::

:: What does this mean for Her? She does not deserve such a weight to be thrust upon Her. :: Jazz

:: Agreed, yet as the humans say; you cannot change Fate. Whether the Allspark and Samantha are truly to become one or the two shall be separated does not matter. Be it Primus, the human's God, or whatever Force there is beyond our comprehension, this is Fate. We have all been constructed with a purpose, just as Samantha has been born with one of Her own. She is as blind to Her future as you and I are, but She will at least have aid in Her struggles for understanding and acceptance. :: Optimus

:: So what shall we do, Optimus? You can feel the uncertainty weighing upon Her just as much as I can. :: Jazz

:: We wait, my friend. We wait for the time when She is ready to speak to us and we will listen. Until that time, we can only offer Her our support and pray to Primus that Her inner strength will hold strong. :: Optimus

:: Will do, Prime. :: Jazz returned, almost morosely.

:: Keep an optic on Her, Jazz. Watch over Her and help Her to stay calm. It is as much as we are able to do at this point. :: Optimus

With that, Optimus disconnected their communications.

Jazz waited for a quarter of an hour more before his Sweetspark and Daniela came jogging out of the buildings. Both females were laughing uproariously and Jazz could see when he zoomed in on them that Samantha's eyes were leaking she was so joyous.

"Quick!" Daniela huffed as she stumbled into his alt-form, futilely pulling at his 'locked' door. "Open it before they come out and catch us! I can't believe you did that!"

"Hey, I wasn't the only one in this!" Sam laughed back, fumbling with Her imitation key and 'unlocking' him. "You weren't an innocent party here! Goodness knows that I couldn't have tipped that wall by myself."

"You are so bad." The elder female chuckled as they slid into his interior.

Wearing only one of Her black skirts and a pale pink, button-down dress shirt, Samantha's skin made full contact with his seats and Allspark energy jolted through him. While Jazz knew that She had control over the Allspark it seemed to him that it was becoming increasingly more common for its energy to radiate off of Her too small form. It was as if the Allspark had made a kind of second skin around Samantha's body, one that She had no control over, to serve some as of yet unknown purpose.

The only thing that Jazz did know for certain was that whenever he or any of the other 'bots came into skin to armor contact it was like being charged, the Cybertronian equivalent of an orgasm. It was intensely erotic, yet at the same time soothing away any and all outside stressors as if he was having his gears unwound. None of them looked for 'sexual' contact with their Sweetspark and She never provided any, yet feeling such a concentrated wave of power was intoxicating.

Jazz applauded Bumblebee for being able to withstand it on a daily basis.

Samantha settled Herself firmly into his seat, buckling Herself in proficiently, and then 'started' his engine with the imitation key. Once Daniela was settled Sam took the wheel and began their long drive home.

Throughout the ride Jazz listened contentedly as Samantha and Daniela discussed, or rather plotted, how they were going to tell Madame Lune that they had inadvertently insulted Kayla Reynolds and then found retribution after the girl had purposely demeaned them in a public setting.

All the while Jazz bathed in the bond that he shared with his Sweetspark, knowing full well that any of the others despite where they currently resided on the planet were basking in Her glory as well.

Allspark or not, Jazz knew deep down in his Spark that he would never let Samantha go. Death would never take Her if he had anything to say about it. She had brought light into their lives after so many eons of darkness and he refused to return to that Pit-Spawned, automated existence he had once dared to call life.

No, Samantha would not leave them.

She would remain and She would continue to shine for them all.

No matter what it took, they would never return to the darkness.

* * *

**Note****:** Howdy! I'm back in business folks! Yahoo! Sorry about the extended wait, but just as I was about to post the last chapter my computer went down. I have been without access to any of my documents, including my Shooting Stars and Setting Suns chapters, since November. The good news is that my computer is back up and all of my data is recovered.

Thanks for sticking with me, folks.

_**Be aware that even though the name is different and I had been playing with the idea before, I recieved permission from Faecat (Science and Fiction) to use the idea of Ironhide having a sparkling as well. She too recieved her idea of Ironhide's sparkling from another, Litahatchee (the original with the idea) but I am sure that she too made reference to the author. Pease be courteous and ask permission if you ever think that you are curtailing another author's idea when you write a story.**_

I know that this chapter probably won't live up to the wait, but I promise that y'all will never have to wait that long again unless my computer decides to go down once more (crossing my fingers and am hoping that it will NEVER happen again!). I'd like to have ten reviews on this latest chapter, please, before I update again.

As always, keep your language clean and feel free to criticize me or point out any errors, just so long as you keep derogatory words pointed elsewhere, be it from me or any of my readers.

Also, be aware that I have posted information about the new Autobots on my Profile Page as well as attached a link with pictures of both the older 'bots and the newcomers.

**Disclaimer****:** I do NOT own Transformers.


	8. Chapter 8: Truths Revealed

**Chapter Eight: Truths Revealed**

"Put me down!" Sam squealed with utter delight as she was swung up in the air by her waist by Knockout. Being one of the smaller 'bots, yet not as small as Beachbreak, he was able to haul her around like a parent might do for a child. Beachbreak stood at only eight feet tall while Knockout had another two feet upon him. While she could ride piggyback to Beachbreak, Knockout could cart her around on his hip.

At present Knockout had thought it would be fun to twirl her around like he had seen a father do with his young daughter at the lake when she'd ridden him there. Quite frankly, she loved his alternate form. Motorcycles had always been a bit of a passion of hers and getting to ride such a fabulous one, no matter if he was really an alien robot in disguise or not, was a massive thrill.

In truth she was having fun. She didn't wholly want to stop this game even if her sides were beginning to hurt from laughing too hard. Occasionally he would deposit her onto the ground only to leave her to the cruelty of Beachbreak, just recently recovered fully from his 'accident' in Africa, who tickled her and flooded her with such gaiety that she could hardly breathe.

All of them needed the distraction, especially she and Beachbreak.

Even now she could still feel the exhaustion from what she had done not even a week ago.

It had been early into the morning five days ago when she'd awoken her family and friends screaming in her agony. Her wailing had terrified her parents, even the neighbors, and sent Bumblebee into a tailspin where he'd been parked just outside of the garage. She'd still been sleeping, or at least in some state of it. Yet what had happened next had literally expelled her of so much energy that it was a wonder that not a single electronic device spontaneously began to walk away from its perch, wherever that may have been within her suburb.

She had been in her dreamscape, witnessing in apt horror as Beachbreak fell from a waterfall so grand that it put Niagara to shame. She'd felt his pain and felt his offlining even as every part of her very soul grappled for him. She could see the others, Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet, and the latest addition to their Autobot crew, Salvage, looking over the rim of the falls as Starscream soared off into the distance.

She had no explanation for how she did what she did next, just as she was still unsure of how she was able to revive Jazz so many months ago, yet she did it.

According to her father, she had literally _glowed_. She had been her own Sun. She had ceased to scream only to gape up at the ceiling with her eyes and mouth wide open. She'd felt so much energy leaving her it was like a great invisible hand had come down and begun to wring her out like a wet dishrag.

Within her dreamscape she watched as Beachbreak's dismembered body remolded itself under the heavy current of the waterfall. His blue optics flickered again and again until finally, as the last piece of his body reattached itself, they illuminated the dark undercurrents completely. Even then, when Beachbreak was wholly himself once more, power wrung out of her until his body was sucked from one realm in space and deposited in another. Sam was semi-conscious of the fact that what she had just seen wasn't just some dream. No, the bombardment of so many emotions from the Autobots flooded every pore of their shared bonds and sent her into an increased state of exhaustion.

She'd slipped fully out of consciousness then only to awaken two days later at the Autobot's temporary base, swaddled in a comforter and cuddled in Beachbreak's lap, her head resting upon his chassis just above his Spark chamber.

For the past three days she had been literally forced to stay on base by the many overanxious Autobots. Beachbreak, being the closest to her size, had become her own personal bodyguard and assistant since she seemed almost incapable of walking around on her own. In truth, even now she was drained of most of her energy. She could stay on her feet for short periods of time, but for the most part she was forced to hitch a ride with one of the mechs. Whenever she tried walking around she had to use Beachbreak as a stabilizer like a toddler might, his footsteps always shadowing hers, his metallic hands ready to snatch onto her waist or lend support to her nearly perpetually suspended arms.

Beachbreak had only needed about a day to recharge and he was entirely back to normal. She, on the other hand, still felt like she had aged about eighty years in one night.

"Put her down, Knockout." Salvage demanded as he walked up behind where the motorcycle was twirling her. "Ratchet is back with Jolt from Sydney. He is anxious to see Samantha now that he has returned."

Salvage was a semi-silent mech by nature. Though he was not as reserved as Longarm, he was not as boisterous as Knockout or Jazz either. He had assumed the form of a red Chevy Silverado and was close in size to Ironhide.

Sam got the distinct impression of Knockout grumbling to himself when her ears picked up a high frequency whine coming from his audios. Salvage stepped up behind him, easily six feet taller than he, and slapped the back of the green mech's helm. She was already laughing again when Salvage plucked her off of the other mech's hip to place her within the shelter of his red arms.

"Ya'd think meetin' Jolt woul'na be any fun fo' 'er." Knockout mumbled in a normal tone of voice, his blue optics practically dancing with mirth. His adopted accent was thick, somewhere within the realm of Southern and Scottish. Mostly she could hear a Scotsman in his tone, though. "Look at 'er! She ain' been nothin' but pouts an' complaints since Prime tole 'er she coul'na go ta Australia ta meet 'im."

"That is because she is in no shape to go anywhere, let alone to another continent."

"Try tellin' that ta 'er!" Knockout chuckled.

"Yeah! Try telling that to her. She is _right here_ after all!" Samantha snapped from where she was being cradled like a baby in Salvage's arms. Both mechs looked down at her with what she knew was an indulgent look and then laughed at her put-out face. "I'm not an invalid you know." She griped more to herself than to them.

"We know, Sweetspark." Salvage soothed, one large digit coming to lightly trace her right cheek before pushing her loose hair from out of her face. "You are still recovering, though. We just want you to get better and you can't get better jet-setting all over the globe to watch every new 'bot's landfall."

"Easy for you to say." She rolled her eyes up at the mech holding her. "You landed close enough to the base that I could welcome you instantly."

"I am lucky, aren't I?" They all laughed at his false show of smugness.

"Where is she?" A deep, brass voice boomed throughout the hangar and Sam pivoted her head from where it lay in Salvage's arm to smile at the self-possessed Ratchet. She raised an arm and waved enthusiastically towards the medic that was making a bee-line for her.

The gruff old 'bot had long since perfected his systems to handle human care and as such she had become his 'most-favored' patient, a role that she wasn't exactly certain that she wanted to have. Already Lennox and Epps took on a nearly green hue whenever the medic sought them out for a quick scan.

Sam shuddered to think of what their very first exam was like, praying internally that it was _nothing_ like her own exam.

Ratchet stomped over towards where she lay in Salvage's arms, completely dismissing the electric blue colored 'bot trailing in behind him. Sam, in turn, ignored the medic to stare at the newcomer.

_This must be Jolt_, she thought softly to herself. She reached out internally as she had with any of the others, following the trail of his essence, his Spark, all the way towards his core. She saw him freeze where he stood within the hangar. Several human soldiers stared up at him with wide eyes, wondering why he was suddenly immobile. Sam felt no real urge to explain as a very base part of her, one that she had become increasingly familiar with since the Allspark had begun to channel itself through her body, connected itself to the new 'bot.

The whole 'bonding' process was getting more intense the longer she served as the Allspark's conduit. She was beginning to see things play in her mind's eye, like one of her dreamscapes playing out in the waking world. She was seeing saved data, memories, of whatever newcomer there was that she connected herself to. It was never their entire life or every memory they had ever experienced, but it was enough for her to have a fair idea of how their life had played out and what kind of Cybertronian they were.

She was also learning to 'bond' faster. Originally the bond would form over the course of a week or so, but as of late she was bonding at an exceptionally rapid rate. The time spans had reduced from a week to a few days to an hour or more, until now she was able to make a complete connection within minutes.

Honestly, Samantha was too terrified of the probable answer to ask herself why the bonding was intensifying and solidifying so quickly.

Almost too quickly to be at all comfortable for his cumbersome form Jolt continued in his steps towards her. The bond between them began to solidify rapidly and Sam allowed herself a contended sigh when it felt as though another piece of herself had come home. It seemed that the more Cybertronians that she connected herself with, intentionally or not, the better she would feel. The best she could relate the sensation to was like if she had had a limb removed, still felt the ghost sensations of it, and after a prolonged period of time getting that limb back.

Samantha was drawn from her thoughts as once again she felt herself being plucked from Salvage's arms only to end up within Ratchet's grasp. Before she could even open her mouth in greeting the medic began an in depth scan of her person.

"Hey!" She snapped, the word cutting off into a squeal as the scan ran through her sides. Ratchet didn't even have the nerve to look contrite. "Permission, Hatchet!" She snarled as the deep tissue scan receded from her very sensitive skin. "First meeting, remember?"

"'It's offsetting to say the least.'" Ratchet played a recording of her voice that she had not known he had from his vocalizer. Her eyes bugged out and all of a sudden her beef with the medic was forgotten in favor of this new sliver of information. A goofy grin split her face in two and she ogled up at the medic.

_You numbskull!_ Her subconscious self yelled into every pore of her seemingly unfocused brain. _You hate being treated like a baby and yet here you are with an attention span worse than a flea and letting the giant robots carry you around like a child. Show them how capable you are! Show them you mean business. Start with getting Ratchet to actually listen to you!_

"Do it again!" She cheered with all the excitement of a child hearing from their parents that they get to go to Disney for the first time.

_And she's gone again._ Her subconscious mind all but threw her hands in the air with frustration before disappearing completely.

"Maybe another time, Sweetspark." Ratchet chuckled, the gruff medic he portrayed to everyone else practically off the radar whenever he was within her proximity. "For right now I wish you to meet Jolt. He is a junior medic, as your species would refer to them. Should I be incapacitated, Jolt is the supervising officer until I am charged enough to get back up onto my stabilizers."

With that simple introduction, Sam felt her face pale drastically and nervousness replace her gaiety. The other 'bots, traitors that they were, all laughed out loud at her sudden halt in excitement. They felt it through their bonds and clearly understood where her mind had made the sudden leap in conclusion. The worst part of it was that Sam knew without a doubt that her leap wasn't out of bounds. If anything, she had jumped short of it.

Gulping down her apprehension, she decided to ask out loud what her mind was already solidifying a truth in her mind.

"You're going to make me go through 'the talk' again, aren't you?" Was she hearing things or was her voice really quaking that badly?

"I do not understand why you make this task sound more arduous than it is. Human sensibilities and so-called requirement of privacy in such matters is unfounded. Your body's natural functions are just that…natural." Ratchet explained with such grandeur that Samantha almost found herself agreeing with him.

Almost.

"Do you want someone to open your chest plates and start poking at your Spark when it pulses in comfort to another's?" She asked out loud, petulant now. Ratchet cocked his head off to the side, a trait learned from the humans, and pondered on her question. "The answer is no. How do I know this? Because it is the same for humans. Some things should remain private."

Ratchet was silent for a long moment and she practically read the contemplation on his non-expressive face. In truth, Cybertronian faces were very much akin to the Iron Giant's face from that cartoon movie that came out when she was still relatively young, if only a bit more detailed. Giant could hinge his 'jaw' up and down in a kind of robotic smile and shutter his 'eyelids', but no more to portray a visual emotion. Cybertronians were the same. Their optics could dim or glow and their 'lips' could move if they had them. That was as much movement as their facial structures allowed them.

Finally, Ratchet spoke, but what he had to say made her want to grit her teeth, plug her fingers in her ears, and chant 'I'm not listening' until he stopped talking.

"While that is a viable comparison, the point is arguable as the human mind is far more erratic. Is it not logical to cover and protect that which is essential to our very existence? In touching our Sparks, you are essentially capable of offlining us with one movement. It is only feasible to surmise that our Sparks should, for the most part, remain 'private' as you say.

"You, however, have no such problems. The organs most essential to your survival are contained permanently within you unless opened through surgical measures, in which case your survival was brought into question beforehand and measures were taken to ensure your continuation. You hide your 'intimate' places for the sake of modesty and other humans' sensibilities even when the elements allow you to free yourself of your clothing if you so chose. Your protoform, your body beneath your clothing, is nothing to be ashamed of, Sweetspark.

"In addition, it is my job as your medic to be aware of anything and everything that has befallen your body. It would not be in your best interest to try and hide anything from me that might be detrimental to your health." Sam fought for the ability to regain speech, but the feat seemed lost on her. With a definitive nod, Ratchet began to tromp through the hangar towards his self-appointed med-bay. "Now, we will help to introduce Jolt to your body by roughly the same conversation you had with me the first time I examined you."

She couldn't hold back the whimper of very slight fear and a whole lot of embarrassment as she reached out with both arms and snuggled as far into the medic's unyielding chest plates as she could get. Again, it was a childish move, one that children instinctively knew could keep them from being spanked (hugging them meant they couldn't be held at a far enough distance to get a proper slap to the bottom), but she felt deep down that she needed to do it. It wasn't just for the subconscious effort to hide from her discipliner. She needed the comfort right then.

Ratchet sighed through his vents before halting momentarily.

"Come with us, Beachbreak. I suppose that I need to give you a systems' check while I am able." Samantha hid her brilliant smile in Ratchet's chest plates. She was his weakness, she really was. They both knew well and good that Beachbreak was cleared for duty and had no lingering side effects of the incident in Africa at what she had later come to learn were the Victoria Falls. No, the miniscule Autobot was coming as a kind of worry-stone for her. She could squeeze his hand as hard as she wanted when she got nervous and not have to worry about cutting off his circulation like any human's would under certain pressures.

* * *

Samantha sat stiffly where she had been placed upon one of the Cybertronian sized berths, a kind of table-bed that reminded her of emergency unit stretchers. Beachbreak sat directly behind her, his legs splayed out on either side of her own where she sat at the juncture of his legs. Her back was to his abdomen and chest, her head not even making contact with the base of his chin. His black and silver hands played with her too-tiny fingers as the two medics chatted in front of them.

Her cheeks were enflamed with embarrassment. 'The talk' as she had come to think of it with Ratchet hadn't really been a talk that she would have normally had with her mother or father when she reached adulthood, a talk which she had already suffered through thank you very much, but it was no less embarrassing. Ratchet performed scans after scans all the while asking her questions and probing her for more information. By the end of the day she was convinced that the mech could mentally calculate the timing between any and all sighs she would make within the next hundred years and spout off the statistics immediately.

She didn't want to have that particular talk with Ratchet again and having to recite it all over again for a 'fresh face' was going to drive her to the brink of insanity. She'd already been made to change out of her normal clothes, which in these past days had been jogging pants and a tank-top due to her extreme fatigue, and into a hospital gown so that Jolt could physically see discerning marks on her skin or touch without hindrance.

Beachbreak, she came to realize, hated the monotony of their conversation about as much as she did. He helped her to move around when needed, but otherwise tried to keep her conversing with him to avoid having to chat with the bigger 'bots.

At present Ratchet was informing Jolt of her various 'special' traits. It was one of the few times that Sam actually cared to tune into the conversation long enough to truly comprehend what was being said. Normally what they spoke was either silent through their comm. links or far too complex for her to really understand.

What Ratchet told Jolt now, though, was interesting if not a little unsettling.

"Due to the nanites within Samantha's systems, as acquired through her family's genetic line by her ancestor Archibald Witwicky, her cellular structure varies slightly from another human's. The nanites, I believe, are what aid her in serving as a conduit for the Allspark. Her blood cells are a unique mix of plasma, water, and nanotech.

"Performing a very base scan will reveal an elevated heart rate, roughly eighty-five beats per minute at rest. With any other human this heart rate would be quite dangerous, but it seems that Samantha's body requires the elevated heart rate to filter the nanites throughout her entire body properly. Even while sleeping her heart rate soars over a normal human's. Her core temperature will be low, however. Her typical core temperature will register at ninety-seven point six degrees Fahrenheit or thirty-six point four degrees Celsius.

"Due to unforeseen circumstances, however, you will find Samantha's body running in a way that is 'normal' for humans. Though she is currently in the 'acceptable' range for the other humans, she is currently highly irregular. Her metabolism has slowed greatly, she is easily fatigued, and prolonged involvement in even mundane activities will leave her with muscle pains. The sooner I am able to restore her to her previous health, the sooner she will stop glaring into the back of my helm."

On that note Sam felt her eyes widen, a hot flush rush into her cheeks, and her head dip so that she no longer looked at the two 'bots. Beachbreak chuckled behind her even as he held her closer about her waist.

Indeed, she had been glaring at the back of Ratchet's massive head. What did he mean by inferring that she was different? Not normal? And why did he have to go and make it sound like she was too weak to do anything? She wasn't a newborn kitten! In addition, _he_ didn't have to bring her back to health. No, she could do that on her own. She'd get some more rest, drink plenty of orange juice, and eat right. She'd get better on her own.

"Do not allow yourself the delusion, Sweetspark." Ratchet chided lightly from where he had come to stand far closer to her than before. She barely suppressed the 'eep' of shock at his stealthy movements before flicking her lavender gaze up to his shining blue one. She could practically feel the smirk on his faceplates even though she couldn't see it. "I do not have to be able to know your thoughts to understand that you believe that you do not need aid in your recovery."

Samantha pursed her lips then in anger. Her eyes sparkled and traces of Allspark power simmered even hotter under her skin when she repeated those magnanimous words in her mind.

_How dare he?_ She snarled inwardly.

"Calm down, Sweetspark." Ratchet cooed to her, Beachbreak's hands working to rub the tension out of her suddenly stiff posture. "I meant you no disrespect. If we like taking care of you and it does no harm, then why not let us indulge ourselves?"

_Because I'm not a baby and I don't need to be taken care of? Because it's like getting attached to a puppy that you know you're going to have to give away to the shelter one day soon? Because even though I like being taken care of and knowing others care about me I don't think that I deserve it? Because I'm not your damned Allspark?_

All of these questions she asked herself, but the only response she could make come out of her mouth was, "Uh…okay."

She listened silently as Ratchet reviewed her general health to the other medic. She was somewhat startled to find out all that was different about her body. The nanites, according to Ratchet, were also affecting her body in other ways other than allowing her to channel Allspark energy.

To a Cybertronian, nanites served in a very similar manner that white blood cells do for humans. They fought off 'infection' and strengthened their immune system. While Cybertronians did not have organic physical processes, they worked in a frighteningly familiar matter. An infection for one of them was basically a systems virus and their immune system was a kind of super firewall. The nanites, though, did a bit more when incorporated into a human's system. The nanites were working synonymously with every other part of her body to fight off any and all disease…including old age.

"What?" She shouted, fighting to come to a standing position despite Beachbreak's solid grip on her.

Samantha would have been the first to admit that she wasn't the smartest girl out there and being around Ratchet on a constant basis had certainly convinced her that she knew very little indeed about the world around her, but there was no way that she had misconstrued the words 'rejuvenating her systems on a predominantly grand scale, thereby extending her existence for an undetermined amount of time'.

"No!" She cried out hotly, her body wiggling to be free of Beachbreak. "I didn't sign on for this! It's bad enough that I'm a carrier for these things, but to have what I am taken from me? No! Do you hear me? No no no!"

She struggled futilely in Beachbreak's formidable hold, trying to completely block out all the other 'bots attempts to calm her through the bonds. She split second of compassion for Jolt, who until this point had never had be exposed to one of her 'tantrums', but it was gone in a flash when she thought about her extended lifespan.

What did that mean? Would she be like Paul Edgecomb from the Green Mile, forced to watch as all those that she loved grew older and died while she had to remain walking the Earth's surface? If that were so, then she'd never have a chance at having a real relationship. How could she stand to do that to another person and to herself? She could marry and have children, but at what cost? Could she honestly live with herself if she had to watch her husband _and_ her children all grow old around her while she remained young?

The answer was immediate.

_Hell no!_

It was about that time that she felt a sharp prick to the right side of her neck. A hissing sound punctuated the air beside that same side ear. Instinctively her hand raised to rub at the offended point. Her eyes drifted upward to stare straight into Ratchet's bright blue optics. Guilt and sorrow pounded at the bond between them.

"Why?" She found herself sobbing suddenly.

"We are not to blame for this, Sweetspark." Ratchet admonished her lightly even as her knees buckled. She quickly found herself leaning back into the miniscule Autobot because her muscles were swiftly losing all strength. "Archibald Witwicky was imbued with these nanites long before you were born and it is by Fate's design that you should have them now. We too are cursed to follow Fate's design."

"Fate's a bitch." She mewled into Beachbreak's neck joints as he hoisted her up into his arms.

"Indeed." Ratchet agreed with a chuckle. Beachbreak handed her over to the medic whom tucked her securely into his chassis. His spark hummed to life and warmed her to her core despite the rapidly dwindling sense of sensation throughout her body. "Yet now we are not alone just as _you_ are not alone. Ask anything of us and we shall see your desires made true."

Despite the growing chill at the knowledge that she would most likely outlive her human family and friends, Sam felt herself smile softly. Sometimes they were too kindly towards her.

Just as the darkness of oblivion came to claim her, Samantha very suddenly realized that she should be furious for something.

_That Pit-spawned medic drugged me!_

_

* * *

_

:: She is calm. :: Jolt directed towards his commanding officer, Ratchet.

:: The sedative I used was specifically designed for Her. She will sleep for a few hours at least. ::

The CMO did something then that Jolt had not seen any 'bot do for many, many Vorns. His chest plates disengaged until his spark was open to any that passed and he slipped the precious bundle that was known as Samantha Jane Witwicky as close to his Spark as he could manage before locking his chest-plates in place just inches from wither side of Samantha's too small body. His servos worked to set her onto the lower ridge of his Spark chamber until she was entirely curled into its warmth.

Ratchet was making himself vulnerable, of that Jolt was certain, but he was also positive that none would be about to disturb this strangely intimate moment. He had learned from Ratchet long ago that energies could be shared between like Sparks. Although Samantha held no Spark of Her own the nanites within Her as well as the Allspark's energy were Originals, older than Ratchet or Sentinel Prime or even Alpha Trion. It was apparent that Ratchet's Spark and Samantha's energies were compatible.

Jolt listened with a light spark as Samantha hummed in Her forced sleep as Ratchet's spark thrummed to Her with warmth. Under normal circumstances the heat radiating from a Cybertronian's Spark would burn a human. It seemed that yet another facet of their little Sweetspark's body set Her apart and above the rest of Her species.

According to the CMO, Samantha had lain before Optimus Prime's Spark in the same way that Ratchet held Her now when She'd first revived Beachbreak. From the datapacks his commanding officers sent to him, Jolt understood that the nanites worked ten-fold in regenerating Her systems when She was exposed fully to another's spark. Essentially that meant that Her recovery would be far swifter within the immediate vicinity of another Spark than anywhere else.

"That went well." Beachbreak huffed aloud, his arms folded over his chassis.

"What would you have had us do, Beachbreak?" Ratchet directed back towards the much smaller mech, his vocal processors working at a much lower, softer volume so as not to disturb their Sweetspark in Her dreams. "Continuing to hide the truth from Her will only end up disheartening Her from us in the long run. Revealing small facts in minute doses now will at least soften the blow when we must tell Her the _full_ truth."

Even Jolt, having virtually known Samantha for only a few human hours now, shuddered down to his very core.

He had been a far distance from the planet Earth when he had heard Samantha unconscious call human _months_ ago. Even in deep space amongst other galaxies he had felt the warmth of Her touch. He could have sworn that very instant that he had had a Sparkbound twin somewhere in the Universe that until then he had been unaware of. She called to him and sheltered him in a kind of blissful haze of semi-awareness. He'd been lost in space for so long, so many vorns, and yet She had sent out a kind of internal beacon that he could follow. Before he was even really aware of it he had been orbiting the planet Earth and making contact with Optimus Prime.

:: Welcome home. :: Had been the recorded comm. his leader had sent to him in the little human's vocal patterns. He'd also been sent a hefty datapack of everything pertaining to the human female that had become the new Allspark as well as held every one of the Autobots' sparks in Her dainty, too breakable hands.

His included.

"How is Samantha?" Jazz asked aloud as he strolled fluidly into the infirmary, the locks to the main doors engaging behind him. It was apparent that he, too, understood clearly that no other humans were to be permitted into this conversation. Nor were they to be witness to what allCybertronians held sacred…their Sparks and their their bond with Samantha was not a mating bond, it was very similar to that between a Sparkling and their Creator.

And Samantha more often than not served as the Creator despite their sometimes overindulgent coddling.

"Ratchet is taking care of Her." Beachbreak affirmed, turning his optics onto the saboteur. "She'll be awake for the movie tonight. Didn't She say that Michael was coming over tonight as well? It will be the first time since Victoria Falls that they will be seeing each other."

"Yes, She will be happy for some human companionship besides the soldiers." Ratchet assured them all, his toned still low and soothing. The 'bot may have been older than most all of them, but he was by no means impenetrable to their Sweetspark's brand of affection. Any one of them, he had seen for himself in the very short time he had been on Earth and from the datapacks as well, had a weak spot for Her.

"Prime had been hoping to speak with her before then." Jazz told them all as he strode directly up to Ratchet and set his right servo over where Samantha lay curled up into Ratchet's Spark. It was an incredibly tender gesture and judging by the flare in both Jazz and Ratchet's optics, She had returned the gesture through pulsing out Allspark power.

"What need would Prime have to disturb Her while She was healing?" Jolt questioned without infliction of tone. It was neither an accusation nor an allowance. It simply was.

"Major William Lennox has informed Prime that Samantha will be meeting with Kaminari Ishihara within the week. The woman will be returning from the proposed base in Diego Garcia in order to make Her acquaintance. Prime simply does not wish to surprise Samantha when She is already under such duress." Jazz spoke fluently, not a single hint of his downloaded human mannerisms present.

"Should She not meet Petr Andronov as well?" Ratchet queried as they all stood completely still in 'down-time' as Samantha had called it. She often laughed when they remained stationary for long periods of time. It unnerved other humans, according to a recorded video of one of the conferences She had attended with Prime, to see others 'just stand there and listen'. Due to not having nerve endings and the ability to cramp up in such short periods of time, any Cybertronian was able to remain immobile for many hours at a time.

"The Russian scientist has claimed the need to finish a project he has been working on in order to combat the Decepticons. He will not be attending the meeting between the two females." Jazz informed them with a hint of a laugh.

"Samantha will like Ishihara." Beachbreak surmised simply. At a look from the others he continued. "Ishihara is smart, unique, and adventurous. If Ishihara were any younger I would bet my lug nuts that those two would have all of us out of our processors with grief. Even Bumblebee would know no recharge under the havoc those two would reap."

"No matter. Once the new base is fully functional, Samantha will be permitted there and may enjoy the weather and beaches. Until then She will have to find Her enjoyment here." Ratchet brushed the matter aside easily.

The Autobots and the human government had worked tirelessly in the past several months to obtain rights to the island known as Diego Garcia for their new, permanent base. According to Prime, the new base was already operational, but they did not want their Sweetspark near it without the protection it would offer once fully erected. Jolt knew that for the time being Samantha was unaware of its existence as She would have demanded them to reside their despite having to suffer the distance separating them all. He could not begrudge his Prime for the decision to remain silent about the base so as to save their Sweetspark pain.

"There is still more that you must know, Jolt." Ratchet inserted himself into his thoughts with the deep resonance of his vocals. The junior medic snapped his attention to the CMO once more, content for the moment to learn of Samantha Jane Witwicky and the place that She called home.

* * *

Samantha hummed peacefully as the warm blanket cocooned all around her. It was like warm, tangy air mixed with a tepid mist draped over her skin. Equal amounts of warmth bubbled up from within her, from that second skin she had felt since Mission City, and absorbed everything it could from the 'blanket'.

Deep voices caressed her and seemed to sing around her, yet from far away. One of them even sent vibrations through the blanket she was bundled up in. At times the voices were silent and she wanted to bid them to continue as their soft, unintelligible words lulled her, but she was just too tired to make her mouth open and force words to pour forth.

Once she was able to crack her eyelids open just a sliver and was welcomed by a soft blue light mixed with gold. It was like looking into the Sun except without the harsh side effects. She was unable to raise her hand to touch it as she wanted, but it was no less comforting to look upon.

The voices picked up again and with a contented sigh she was able to slip off into sleep once more, this time un-haunted by night-terrors.

* * *

**Notes:** Howdy y'all. Sorry about the wait. There was a little bit of a hitch in the giddy-up for this chapter pertaining to the content. Just so y'all know, I've got myself a Beta for these stories now. Her name is Kartai so give her a big hand for helping me out as well. Chances are, she's going to be my left hand in the following chapters and stories for when my right hand gets cramped. Lol.

I wanted to say thank you for all the wonderful reviews and the continued devotion from my readers. It's nice to know that I have some fans out there. Here's a shout-out to a few of my consistent fans that have PM'd me whenever I'm reaching my due-date for the next chapter…

_**Ishgirl**_ – You know who you are! You're definitely one of my biggest fans out there and it humbles me. You have my word that within one of my series for Transformers I will use the idea you gave me and offer you credit…it was your idea after all. Thanks for all the PM's.

**_Allie_** – Always so eager! Lol. The instant I get a chapter up and you've seen it you're ready for the next one. I appreciate the love.

**_RoxasIsReal13_** – You have been one of my readers from very early on and I am happy that you have stuck with me. I'm so happy that you enjoy my take on a female Sam.

**_Briar X_** – Thanks for the patience. You have been with me since the very first chapter of 'All The Stars In The Sky' and I am so glad that I've been able to keep your attention for as long as I have! I have gotten complaints about being a slow updater and it's nice to know that some out there can put up with the wait. I only hope that my chapters are living up to the wait.

To all my other readers and faithful fans that I couldn't get a shout-out to…THANK YOU! It's because of your faith in me that I continue this story despite any problems that I may have at home. So far this story has made 97 Favorites Lists and 82 Story Alerts. I'm hoping to hit 100 for each just as 'All The Stars In The Sky' had.

If I can ask, I just need 10 more reviews and 'Shooting Stars and Setting Suns' will have had more reviews than my first installment! So please review! As always keep the language clean and feel free to point out any of my mistakes. I hope y'all enjoy the chapter. It will be a serious scene, I mean it this time, between Optimus Prime and Samantha which will hopefully clear up some questions that y'all might have had.

_**P.S.**_ Only five more chapters left to this installment before I start on my version of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen.

**_P.S.S. I also advise everyone who hasn't yet to read 'Transformers; The Veiled Threat'. It is a part of the real-world Transformers book collection and it is wonderful. The book is what inspired me to add the characters that I have when I have, though most of what I have written has been entirely for my own enjoyment._**

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Transformers.


	9. Chapter 9: A Matter of Recall

**Chapter Nine: A Matter of Recall**

Samantha leaned into the turn as Knockout banked right. Her hands gripped lightly to the handle bars even as her legs hugged tightly to the angular frame of the Autobot's terrestrial disguise. A slight smirk graced her lips from under the blue, silver, and black, full-face motorcycle helmet William Lennox had bought for her online.

She really did _love_ Knockout's alt. mode.

He was taking her now to go talk to Optimus Prime. Ever since Spring Break when Jolt had arrived, which had been barely two weeks ago, she had been trying to process the fact that she was never going to get the chance to have her normal, human life. She had figured it out on her own that even if the Allspark left her, she would still be apart from the other humans. It still wrenched her heart to think that she was going to have to watch her parents age and died, her friends, and Heaven forbid if she had children…

Shaking her head quickly to free herself of those disturbing thoughts, she allowed her mind to drift back to a week ago when she'd gotten to meet Kaminari Ishihara, who insisted she call her Kami. The woman was a literal whip with her mind. The cyberneticist had been easy to befriend and already they had a shared shopping day set, Autobot escort included of course.

She and Kami had argued with the Bumper-Car Twins over the proper use of the elder woman's computer. It had been quite humorous for those passing by to see the duo literally fritzing out when they could think of nothing to say to Kami's reasoning.

The woman didn't really fit the bill of a stereotypical cyberneticist. When one thought of a cyberneticist, they might think of a Steve Urkel of sorts, maybe even Jerry Lewis. Surely no one would picture a woman with long, tanned legs, dark brown eyes, sleek black hair hanging down to her buttocks, and pursed pink lips. She held a kind of exotic beauty that most women wished they could have. Mike had met the woman as well, but he claimed that Sam was more beautiful. She'd just laughed at his loyalty to their friendship. Sure she was pretty, but she wasn't 'all that'.

Knockout soared up the incline leading to the bluff and Sam felt herself hug closer to his tank or whatever it was under that imitation piece. She still got confused on what parts ended up where when any Cybertronian underwent a transformation. The smaller the Cybertronian, the more confused she got.

When Knockout came to a standstill Samantha sat back, braced her feet on either side of him, and set her eyes on the Peterbilt semi sitting somewhat inconspicuously before them. It wouldn't be fair to say that Optimus totally fit into the scenery around him especially here. A rest stop parking lot? Sure. At the precipice of a bluff overlooking the small town of Tranquility? Not so much.

"Hello Samantha." The Prime spoke with a deep level of warmth that made her fight back a blush.

"Howdy." She called back from under the facemask of her helmet. With a smooth flick of her right leg she dismounted from Knockout. The smaller Autobot revved his engine before engaging his hologram which happened to be a stunningly gorgeous Channing Tatum-type guy and roared off down the incline to give them privacy. Samantha chuckled as she watched Knockout perform a flawless wheelie before disappearing from sight.

"Why do y'all take on holograms so attractively designed? Wouldn't it be more, I don't know, unnoticeable to other humans if you used average looking holograms?" She queried as she strode up to the semi.

"As we do not frequent the same locations with the exception of Tranquility often I allow my soldiers to choose their holograms at will. It is our way of relating ourselves as closely as we can to humans." Optimus explained simply.

"So you're saying that if you were human the holograms that you are showing us are pretty exact to how you might look?" When she received approval of that theory, she huffed. "Well dang! A whole faction of warrior supermodels; I'm a lucky girl."

With a chuckle she pulled the helmet from her head and shook her braid free. Her hair had grown longer in these past months. It now licked at her upper thighs and was constantly growing. It got to the point that she had to cut it every couple of weeks or else she'd have six more inches of hair by the end of two months. Her nails were just as bad.

"How do you enjoy the riding outfit Major Lennox purchased for you?" The Prime queried as she stripped out of the matching black and blue motorcycle jacket. She looked over both the items before setting them carefully onto the ground.

"They're wonderful. The jacket is heavy, but that's just because of all the padding. I love the helmet. I'd never seen a design like it. I especially like the glyphs Jazz put to the right of the visor. He told me that they mean sacrifice and victory." She beamed up at the grill of the semi. "They're great, Big Guy. Thank you all for getting them for me. I know that Will didn't pay for them with his own money."

"It is not our money, either, Sweetspark." Optimus assured her with a chuckle as he underwent his shift back over into his bipedal form. "It is the money belonging to your government. A great deal of what is funded to NEST is secured for our private use. We have very little need for the funds outside of militant purposes."

"Ah." Was as all she said.

"Come here, Sweetspark." Optimus commanded softly as he lowered his right hand so that she could mount it. With a light smile she did so. The Prime lifted her up towards his chest even as he sat down facing the drop-off. She knew that while he looked exposed, Optimus was well aware of everything around him. If anyone were to come up to the bluff he'd be transformed back into his semi form before they could see anything.

Besides that, Samantha had little doubt that Knockout was keeping an optic open even farther out to give them even more warning.

"So," she began with a deep sigh, "what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Of my past, Sweetspark." Optimus gazed down at her from his substantial height before returning his optics back out onto the horizon. The sun was coming close to licking over the rim of the distant mountains now. The sky had begun to take on its fading hues. "And of you and your future. With us."

"Oh." She mumbled, settling herself fully back into his warm chassis.

This would be the first time that she'd get to hear of the real Optimus. She'd become as close to him as any of the other 'bots, but the Prime chiefly kept to himself. She couldn't begrudge him this. He had fought for centuries, led his men in a war that seemed never-ending, and served as the backbone of the entire Autobot faction. She thought that he deserved his peace and some solitude when he could afford to relish in it.

"Before I was Optimus Prime, I functioned as a data clerk. My name was Orion in those times." Optimus began, his optics growing darker as he remembered back to the times of his 'youth'. "I was literally Sparked to be a data clerk. I was the best at what I did. I could call up any file, any image, any words spoken half a world away in a nano-klik. I had Intel that could have usurped our High Council and brought a devastating end to our way of life. Of course any change such as that would not be welcomed at all.

"You see, Cybertron had centered around what humans call a caste system. Any Cybertronian was Sparked for a certain purpose and lived a certain way in a specific station. I was made a data clerk and I would have offlined as a data clerk if the War had not begun."

Samantha thought on that a moment. She'd learned about the caste system in Social Studies years ago. Unbelievably, even in the 2000s, the caste system was still in use. The rich were born rich and would always be rich. The poor were born poor and would always remain that way. A plumber's son would become a plumber as well. A lawyer's son would become a lawyer. There was no room for movement and even if there was it would not have been permitted. Unlike in America, at least the America that is broadcasted to the rest of the world, these countries had no chance of making a better life for themselves. There were no rags to riches stories. In these countries if you were born on the lowest rung of society you would remain there for your entire, pitiful life.

"In the time before the War there were battles held underground in gladiatorial rings. The High Council turned a blind eye to these battles as they helped to relieve the tension created in our society. The gladiators were of the lowest castes. They were the manual laborers that worked in our mines deep underground. I had intercepted wavelengths from these rings and become quite obsessed with them. I spent countless hours entering data-pack upon data-pack of information into our logs on the gladiators, their battles, and their revolutionary ideas."

Optimus was silent a moment then, his optics flaring brightly as a wave of regret, anger, awe, and finally apathy washed over their shared bond. Sam had to press a hand to her head to sort through the chaotic emotions running through her.

It was always so stressful upon her body to have to handle not only her emotions, but the other 'bots as well. It was one of the main reasons that she was trying to fortify her mental shields. It would keep the other 'bots out to a certain extent and keep her from entering theirs through her side of the bond.

"There was one Cybertronian that never lost in the gladiatorial rings. He was superior to all and sought to act outside of his caste. He gave himself a name, a name once held by one of the original thirteen Primes.

"His name was Megatronus."

Samantha gasped in disbelief as her eyes bulged. She whipped her head upwards to gape at Optimus, but he was not looking at her. He was staring out onto the horizon with distant optics.

"Megatronus was a radical. He spoke out against our way of life. He _acted_ against it. In his battles he was later given the name _Megatron_. He was unstoppable. His words, his speeches, I idolized him, but I was also confused. So I held council with my mentor and supervisor, Alpha Trion. He encouraged me to keep an optic on Megatron and continue collecting data.

"I needed to do so much more, though. I was inspired by Megatron and his ideals. In time I sought to speak with him in person. We were never silent amongst each other. We always got into one argument or another. Megatron was a revolutionary and preferred physical confrontation. I was the inspirational speaker, so to speak. We were as different in some regards as the Sun and moon. The only fact that we agreed upon was that Cybertron needed a new way of life. We needed to get out of the caste system and into something better, grander. We needed to get back to the time of when Iacon was first created.

"Megatron and I became what you might call 'brothers' after a time together. We fought for the same ends and supported each other without question. Although we shared no bonds our comradery was something to behold. We were closer than business partners, but lesser than familial. Our brotherhood was similar to that of two children brought together through marriage and declaring an attachment to the other as family, though there is no blood similarity."

Thinking on it Samantha thought that she understood. There were many families that married together and the children would come to see each other as family even though they did not share a collective genetic similarity. The movie 'Four Brothers' came directly to mind when she thought about it.

Optimus had grown grown close to Megatron and he to Optimus in their struggles to overcome their stations in life. They relied upon each other. They trusted each other. It was simple to assume that they became attached to one another. No amount of trust is exchanged without at least feeling some depth of feeling for another being.

In hearing this Samantha had to wonder to herself what the old Megatron had been like. She couldn't imagine Optimus joining a cause with a madman even if he was 'young'. The Prime affirmed that Megatron had always been a physical being, but maybe in those earlier times he hadn't been as bloodthirsty. She had to think that there was something, somewhere along the way that messed with the Decepticon leader's circuitry. Fighting was one thing, Ironhide liked to fight, but insanity was another. Starscream was insane and obviously Megatron had slipped into that realm somewhere along the line.

Optimus's voice brought her back from her musings with a start.

"I inadvertently revealed myself as a 'revolutionary' when I supported Megatron on one of his radical views through the data wavelengths. I then became a full part of the organization and took part in the movements against our society. It is with great regret that I tell you that the more power our organization gained, the more violent our movements became. Though Megatron denied his involvement, he plotted the destruction of _Six Lasers Over Cybertron_, a kind of amusement park that only those of the highest castes were permitted to enter. He was unable to refute, though, the kidnapping of Sentinel Prime by Sentinel's own Seeker bodyguards. You would know one of the Seekers by the name of Starscream and his trinity, Thundercracker and Skywarp.

"In time Alpha Trion garnered Megatron and I an audience with the High Council. They were hostile with us from the very beginning. Megatron disproved of his involvement in any of the violent movements against the High Council, but held to his guns that the caste system should be eradicated…including the High Council. He was awarded the title of Decepticon then. It had been a name coined by his followers. His testimony was not taken to Spark as his thoughts and words were brash. He could not make the Council understand in a way that they could understand and was not willing to conform to reach that understanding.

"When it came time to plead my own case I was more diplomatic. I made them see that we had fallen as a race and would continue to fall if we remained as we were. Before I was Sparked there had been a freer society for all in which we overcame many obstacles. In our then current system we would have had no hope of defending and bettering ourselves as we had in the past. Halogen, a High Council member, had deemed me an Autobot by my words then.

"I came to discover later that the Council had seen the wisdom in my words that day. They were forced to look into themselves and see how low our society had fallen as a whole. They had realized some time before either Megatron or I arose that our society was doomed to fall to the Pits if they did not change their ways, but often change is frightening. The High Council was old even by Cybertronian terms. At their age the effort it would take to bring about a change would have been detrimental to their continued existence.

"Though they were enraged with Megatron and I for how we had deemed to back our cause they had seen the possibilities through us. When they accepted our audience that day they had been well aware that we would usher in a new age for all of Cybertron, but they were testing us. They needed to find the one of us that would truly lead everymech into the new world. It was my plea that solidified my new place in society as a whole.

Halogen appointed me a new status, something entirely unheard of in the vorns since Iacon had been constructed, and given me a new name. While it was true that they accepted me as a new leader, as the 'revolutionary mastermind' that had been trying so desperately to bring us out of our own Dark Ages, he understood that a data clerk was not going to garner the same respect as one of the Elite. So in that moment I was no longer Orion Pax, data clerk; I was designated Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and Commander of the Cybertronian armies."

Samantha sat in complete awe as she listened to Optimus's tale. She had been allowed to know certain facts of Cybertronian history and had been forced to witness some of the more devastating incidents within her dreams, but she had never heard the tale of how the Autobots and Decepticons had come to despise each other. How the War had actually started.

Now that she was getting the chance to hear the story she wasn't sure if she still wanted to know. She had a weird feeling that this was all just going to get worse.

"Megatron was vindictive. He believed that I had planned all along to usurp him and be elevated in status. He was so enraged that he offlined Halogen at that very moment. In order to avoid further offlining I pled with him to take the battle outside of the Council halls. It was a strategic retreat on both of our parts, but that was far from the end of things.

"Iacon became the Autobot stronghold as Megatron led a path of destruction over the rest of the planet. With the Wreckers' aid we were able to combat the Decepticon combiners such as Devastator, who was a monolith in size and power. It was at the battle of Praxus that the decision was made to launch the Allspark into space to keep it out of Megatron's claws. We could not withstand his advances as it was. If he harnessed the power of the Allspark we would have been no more. Bumblebee lost his vocorder during the subsequent battle on Tyger Pax. In truth he was quite fortunate. At Tyger Pax more Sparks were lost than could be counted.

"In searching for a new combat method since the Allspark was no longer at his disposal Megatron harnessed the power of Dark Energon. Starscream had revealed to him the location of the only vast stores of the Unicron infused energon and Megatron was more than willing to use any weapon at his disposal. Dark Energon has the same properties as pure energon, but yields the same results as cocaine might on a human as well as packing a punch ten times that of pure energon. It is an addictive power source. Without it a Cybertronian will go mad if they had been exposed to it beforehand.

Megatron became greedy. He fought and fought our armies to the brink of destruction, all the while infusing Dark Energon into his mechs. He eventually sought to control the Plasma Energy Chamber to turn Cyberton's core into Dark Energon on top of controlling the Tripticon Station which housed his only other stock of rapidly depleting Dark Energon. He destroyed Sentinel Prime in order to obtain the necessary power to wield the Plasma Energy Chamber.

"We failed in our efforts, even with Omega Supreme's help, to keep the Plasma Energy Chamber out of Megatron's claws. Omega Supreme, a literal Cybertronian city-sized Autobot, could not withstand Megatron's advances under the influence of Dark Energon. Without preamble, Megatron converted Cybertron's core to Dark Energon and succeeded in providing his army in a limitless source of the vile energon."

Samantha began to rub her palms over Optimus's chest plates, deliberately releasing small amounts of Allspark energy as she did so in order to calm the hulking leader. She could feel his hazarding emotions and it sickened her. She wouldn't say it out loud, but she had little doubt that the impact his emotions were having on her were going to cause her to 're-live' his experiences in a Night Terror tonight.

It always happened like that. Whenever any one of the 'bots told her stories of their past, when their emotions were at their strongest, she lived through their memories as if she really was one of them. Countless times already she had found herself on the battlefield defending some outpost against the Decepticon scourge.

Yet she could not tell any of the Autobots of her dreams. How could she? The dreams were too vivid and taxing on her. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that some part of her body was accessing their memory cores and playing their experiences back to her. If it was the Allspark's doing, she would learn to harness the ability in time. If it was simply the nanites taking control…well, she didn't want to become a permanent resident of Ratchet's infirmary if she could help it.

And keeping quiet about the 'Recall', as she had come to call it, would keep her away from that overprotective medic at least for a little while.

"We were able to retrieve the Plasma Energy Chamber from the core of Cybertron thanks to Bumblebee's scouting, but the Dark Energon did its damage. The Cybertronian race was forced to flee the planet due to its inhabitable terrain. It would recover over vorns, but to stay would mean losing all those left from the War due to starvation. It was not an option that I was willing to take. I had shouldered enough offlining to crush me a million times over under its weight. I would not be the one to condemn what was left of the Cybertronian race to destruction.

"Many Autobot and Neutral ships were destroyed when we tried to abandon Cybertron. The Decepticons wanted to see every Cybertronian, every Autobot, offlined. Alpha Trion helped us to create the _Ark_, the largest spaceship ever created in Cybertronian history, which we fled on. Alpha Trion stayed behind with the Wreckers and Omega Supreme in order to defend what was left of our stronghold. The Decepticons followed after us in the _Nemesis_, Sparks set on seeing to our end. It was only through the power of the last remaining spacebridge that we were able to flee. It sent both ships to separate areas in space and saved the Autobots from being annihilated.

"It was on the ship, though, that my second in command, Prowl, picked up on the signal of the Allspark. We have been searching ever since."

"Oh, Optimus." Samantha huffed out, her cheek coming to rest against the warmed metal of his chassis. She concentrated hard when she received no response from the Prime and nearly choked when two voices echoed in her mind as clearly as if they had been spoken aloud.

"We will always be brothers." A hauntingly familiar voice growled out. "We are bound together. You cannot escape me, brother. I will hound you across the stars if I must, until every star in the galaxy has burned itself into a cinder. I will hunt you, and I will find you, and when I find you, I will, as I promised, see what the Core might have sequestered inside the body of the so-called Prime."

"Hunt me then, brother –" Optimus chided in return, his voice just as gravely as Megaton's, "if your hunt means Cybertron will escape your madness."

With a gasped breath she pulled away from the Prime and stared up into his ice-blue optics which were now entirely focused onto her. She felt his worry bombard her. She didn't have the energy to rebuke it as she was stunned by what had just happened.

_Did I just hear his thoughts?_ She asked herself.

"Are you well, Samantha?"

"Y-yes." She stuttered out, her eyes crossing before her as she tried to dispel the questions suddenly plaguing her. She wouldn't try to decipher all this now. She had to speak with Optimus. She could think on this new development later. With a calmer voice she continued. "I'm fine. I promise. So, Megatron, in a way, inspired you to become who you are today?"

"Yes." With a definitive nod Optimus stared back out onto the horizon. The sun had begun to fall almost entirely out of sight now. The skies glowed with red and pink fire even as the darkness encroached from behind them. "Megatron was not always so ruthless. At one point in time he had been a visionary. 'Freedom is every Cybertronian's right' he had once preached. He had been a little violent, a physical mech by design, but overall a sane mech.

"It was not until the Dark Energon tainted his very being that Megatron truly lost his battle with sanity. His generals, Soundwave and Shockwave, were truly mad, but Megatron had been above them. I do not know if it was their doing or another's, but the Megatron that I once knew was a revolutionary and a capable, solid mech. Something changed him."

Samantha shrugged her shoulders as Optimus set about rubbing her back with his thumb. Warm tingles shot up and down her spine with every movement. It helped to ease her tension. That was definitely a perk to having an autonomous robotic organism for a friend. They were able to radiate electrical pulses through various parts of their bodies and those pulses succeeded in loosening any amount of tension in human muscles.

"I don't know, Big Guy. I only know the Megatron that attacked me. I only know the Megatron that was as mad as a hatter." At the internal prodding for information, she giggled. "It's a kids movie. 'Alice in Wonderland'. There was a character called the Mad Hatter. He was a little bit crazy and ten times weirder. He was kind of scary, too, in his own way."

"I see."

"So, you've been with the Autobots from the beginning? You were the first and only leader of the Autobots?"

"Yes." He confirmed with a nod. "Sentinel Prime was the Prime before I, but the torch was passed to me that day with the High Council. With the exception of the first thirteen Primes, only one Prime may serve at a time. The two separate factions were spawned the same day as well. Jazz knew me as Orion Pax when I was a data clerk."

"Really? You knew Jazz before everything started?" Now that was an interesting thought.

"Jazz was a cultural investigator. He bore a higher station than I at the time, but we were still friends and allies. He first took me to the gladiatorial rings. Jazz never fully trusted Megatron even then." Samantha got the distinct feeling of a depreciative snort coming from the bond between her and the Prime. "Perhaps I should have listened to his sage advice."

"You were deceived." She concluded simply. "It happens to the best of us, Optimus."

"Ironhide and Bumblebee stood beside me from the very beginning as well, and subsequently Ratchet as well through Bumblebee. Bumblebee served as a distraction when the Allspark was launched into space and paid dearly for it. I met Ironhide at Praxus. He did not trust me at first, but over time he put his faith into my leadership. It took far too long for me to realize that standing and fighting was sometimes better than tactical retreats."

"So, uhm, how did Iacon get destroyed?" Sam asked nervously, vivid images from that one night terror still plaguing her.

"It was in Megatron's search for the Plasma Energy Chamber. It was devastating to see our once great city fall. So many of the last Sparks ignited by the Allspark before we launched it were lost. It was in his hopes that in destroying the young Sparks that they could not join the Autobot faction. Many of the younger mechs chose to side with the Autobots and Neutrals were too easily swayed between the factions." There was such sorrow in his voice that Samantha had to fight not to cry.

"I saw it, Optimus." She sighed out, her right hand rubbing circles into the back of her neck. "Not all of it, but some. I saw Iacon in my dreams. I see so much of Cybertron in my dreams, Optimus." She wouldn't tell him that she knew frighteningly specific tales of each and every one of them, but she could let him know that she at least had a general idea of what had happened to all of them. She couldn't afford the attention it would bring to her if she told him of all the very personal things she had seen for herself.

"It is the Allspark." Optimus assured her with a softness that might have startled anyone else.

"How do you know?"

"Because the Allspark, whether it was on Cybertron or not, is connected to the planet itself. The Allspark holds the history of all of Cybertron within its core. Serving as the Allspark it only makes sense that these 'memories' are being made visible to you."

"But _how_?" She demanded with a snap. Wincing, she struggled to make herself calm down and have a civilized conversation. "I'm human, Optimus. I may have nanites in my body that give me certain advantages over other humans, but in overall body I am human. I am not Cybertronian. I don't have a processor. I don't have a Spark. It makes no sense that I can see or feel the things that I can."

"The nanites within your body are ancient, Samantha." The Prime sighed dejectedly. "They are older than Megatron to be able to alter your physical being as they have. Only an ancient Cybertronian's nanites held the ability to cooperate with anything other than Energon. I have read through scientists' records and experiments performed before the War. No Cybertronian of 'modern' times can infuse nanites to anything other than themselves for risk of destroying the other being.

"That being said we know very little about an ancient's nanites. We could takes samples of course, but the nanites are beyond our comprehension as our own have condensed and compacted to work solely with our systems. The nanites, in all likelihood, are reworking your physical structure so that they may work more efficiently.

"Ratchet has informed me of the circumstances you now find yourself in. Besides fighting off foreign bodies and prolonging your life, the nanites are very slowly multiplying. In time there will be enough of them to conjoin and reinforce your bones and organs. You slowly, yet surely, are making a transition into becoming a techno-organic being, Samantha."

_Pick your jaw up out of your lap._ Her inner voice scolded her. _Slap yourself if you need to! Say something back Fight it! Accept it! Do anything that isn't just sitting there!_

"Y-you m-mean –" She had to gulp and take several deep breaths before she could make herself speak coherently once more. "I'm not human anymore?"

"You are and you are not." The Prime spoke vaguely. She felt her anger flare. She wasn't in the mood for elusive conversation. She wanted the straight truth and she feared that if she didn't get it that she was going to throw a very not-adult-like tantrum. "You were born human and your general make-up will always be the same, but the nanites within your body are improving your physical form. They are solidifying the weaker spots and advancing your organs to a more operable level."

"Am I going to be made of metal?" She whispered, horror evident in her tone.

"No, Sweetspark." Optimus chuckled. His thumb grazed over her cheek before returning to its soothing course rubbing over her back. "You will not be made of metal. Your skin will remain as it is just as your bones will. The only difference will be that the nanites will be intertwined with the elements that make up your form to strengthen them."

"Meaning…?"

"It will be harder to cut you as the nanites will have solidified around your tissues to an extent. Your skin will remain pliable, but more difficult to separate. Healing will most likely be more rapid as well since the nanites serve as your white blood cells do."

"So how am I dreaming these things? What are the nanites doing there?"

"As I have stated, the nanites are becoming more prominent. They are adapting you to what you now must learn to accept as a part of your body. My guess is that the nanites are working in conjuncture with your brain to deliver images relayed by the Allspark. The human brain operates essentially by the firing of electrical impulses to the synapses. Nanites are electrical in nature so it is no real surprise that they can override the natural impulses with their own."

That was unnerving. In fact that was downright terrifying. She turned pleading eyes onto the Prime, her bottom lip fighting not to tremble with the thought that suddenly plagued her.

"If the nanites can override other impulses does that mean that someone can take control of the nanites and control me through them?" _Oh please, please, don't let that happen. If it can, I will kill myself now. I swear it!_

Optimus caught onto her encroaching hysteria and cut it off at the knee. She felt him shatter through the walls she had set around herself and engulf her with his calm, fatherly influence. He bombarded her with such calm that she was finding it hard to be mad at him for breaking through her shields, weak as they were.

She had been trying to make them stronger, damn it!

"Hush, Sweetspark. The nanites are too old for our comprehension let alone another human's." Optimus assured her, his hand stilling only to cup her to his chassis in a light hug. "You have no need to fear being controlled in this way."

"Thank Heaven." She huffed out.

Silence reigned between them for a short time, she taking comfort from the Autobot leader, and he taking pleasure from her presence. She wasn't disgusted that he was enjoying their companionship here. Any one of the 'bots couldn't help their base programming which was welcoming home the Allspark.

Which brought up her next question…

"Hey, Optimus?"

"Yes?"

"Why do y'all treat me like a baby?" When the Prime actually laughed, she leaned back and smacked him with the palm of her hand on the chassis. Of course it hurt her more than it did him, but it was the principle of the thing! "Don't laugh at me! I'm serious."

"I'm sorry, Samantha." Optimus chuckled softly before shaking his massive head. "We do not mean to. It is in our programming. Were you aware that you are roughly the same size of any of our sparklings? You know already that your age is infinitesimal in comparison to ours. To a degree we are even tempted into 'babying' William Lennox or Robert Epps. You are such a young race."

"But why me especially?" She queried, her lips pursed. "Sure you all defer to me at times and obviously listen to what I have to say, but most of the time I feel like a coddled child. Not to mention that ever since Mission City that need to submit to those feelings are getting worse."

"You are too young." Was his bland response. "The nanites are relating you to a Cybertronian even though you are a human. It is my belief that the nanites are working adversely upon your brain and body in that they are setting you to an age appropriate to your relationship with a Cybertronian. You are a sparkling in age, Sweetspark, by our standards."

"Oh no." She hissed out. "I am not going back to diaper days. No freakin' way!" She knew that she must look like a petulant little child right now, her arms crossed over her chest and her cheeks puffed out and flaring like a siren, but she just couldn't help herself. She was not a baby! She was a grown woman!

_Why don't you just start stomping your foot and screaming, you twit. Isn't it bad enough that you're as affectionate as a puppy? Do you really have make matters worse by being so immature?_ Her inner voice chided her with something close to maliciousness in the tone. Obviously the 'little Samantha' was not taking kindly to her habit of always acting opposite of what she preached.

Once again the Prime laughed at her. This time his whole frame shook and his booming voice echoed over the valley. Despite herself, Samantha couldn't help but beam widely. That laugh was just too infectious.

_And look! She's smiling again. Ugh! Maybe we've got ADD or something._ The little her shook her imaginary head before disappearing back into her core for later back-seat commentary as she'd come to call it.

"You will not have to. You are simply more dependent upon us as your elders. Bumblebee was the same many vorns ago. In time your independence will be won back, but just know that you still are able to make choices on your own. You are an adult, technically speaking. Know that you probably never will fully revert out of your dependency, though, as you are always going to be younger than we.

"As for us? You are the Allspark. We are programmed to protect the Allspark. To add onto that, you are seen as a sparkling or youngling in our sparks and processors. We will want to, _need_ to, protect you, help you, and care for you. It is in our nature. If you ever feel uncomfortable, though, inform us. Autonomous robotic organisms we may be…mind-readers we are not."

"Okay." She allowed a little easier now that she had some understanding of the situation. She uncrossed her arms before kicking her legs over the side of Optimus's palm. She couldn't help but think that with her legs dangling and kicking in the air that she was not doing herself justice as an adult.

_Am I always going to act like such a child?_ She wondered.

"Now, if you will allow, I wish to discuss the future with you." At her nod of ascent Optimus trudged on. "Do you understand that the Allspark cannot be transferred out of your body while you still exist?"

"Yes." She deadpanned, afraid to allow herself to examine that truth too thoroughly. She knew that if she did, at least right now, that she would dissolve into a fit of tears or start pacing like a caged lion.

"None of us is sure how long you will survive, Sweetspark, but we will not allow you to pass away easily when your time comes. The bonds you have created with us are as strong as mating bonds, but not fundamentally the same. We do not know if when you pass if we too will pass, but we do not want to see this come to fruition. You will be guarded, Samantha. At all times."

"I get that." She groused, not liking where this was going.

"You are learning to use your powers, we can all feel this, but you are still vulnerable. Your pain is our pain. Your despair is ours. Even if you were able to control the Allspark fully, a feat that I firmly believe no being is capable of, you are fragile. We cannot have you getting hurt, Sweetspark. We cannot leave you.

"I need you to understand now, my little Sweetspark, that your life is paramount. If Earth falls to the same fate of Cybertron, then so be it. I do not relish in the thought of this planet coming to an end, but if it must be then so be it. But if Earth does fall, if my mechs all meet their end, then it will have been for your continued existence. Ask any of them and they will tell you the same as I am now.

"If we must leave Earth then you must leave, too. Precautions will always be taken where you are concerned, Samantha. Your health and safety defeat every other objective my mechs have."

"Do you have to sound like such a pompous asshole?" She demanded haughtily, her jaw clenched tightly. She felt Optimus internally reel back at her sudden show of aggression. She wasn't a big cusser, so when she swore it often caught their attentions.

She motioned for the massive Autobot to let her down. Reluctantly he did as she asked. Once she was deposited onto the ground she began to pace like that lion she had thought of earlier.

"What gives you the right to determine how my life is going to turn out! I can't even decide that! Why should you?" Flinging her arms out widely, she gestured at nothing in particular yet emphasized herself completely. "Do I look like I can't take care of myself? I took Megatron down for Heaven's sake! I'm not going to break despite what everyone seems to think!"

"Of course you're not." Optimus tried soothing her ruffled feathers, but she was having none of it. She'd worked herself up to a good mad and she was desperate to see it through.

"Then don't walk on eggshells around me!" She thundered, her voice coming out at a dangerously loud level. Her voice echoed over the bluff and down the craggy incline until it disappeared into the air around them.

"Sweetspark…" Optimus tried to pacify, but she growled at him in return.

"Don't you 'Sweetspark' me, you overgrown vacuum cleaner!" She snarled, her mind still reeling on the fact that her life was being controlled for her. Her eyes blazed a dazzling purple and white, light shining through their depths that was entirely inhuman. "I'm not a child. I'm not a soldier at your command. I'm not even of your race! I am Samantha Jane Witwicky. I was born August 24th, 1989 in Tranquility, Nevada. My favorite color is blue. My favorite author is Celeste de Blasis. I am an accomplished dancer and enjoying hanging out with my friends. I always wanted to be a dancer when I grew up and travel the world. And you know what, Optimus?

"None of that has changed!" She stalked towards the metal giant, her chest heaving. If she had cared to taken any notice, she would have seen that Optimus was leaning away from her and the angry Allspark power radiating just below the surface of her skin. She would have seen the true trepidation in the Prime's optics and felt a small twinge of fear coming from him and all of the Autobots that she shared a bond with.

But she didn't care. She wanted them to know what she was dealing with. She needed him to see what all of this was doing to her. She had been walked on long enough. It was time to put her foot down.

"Your war, while important, makes no difference to me, Prime. I still want to travel the world. I still want to be the dancer that I know I can be. I want to see my name in lights and dance on Broadway. I want someone to love me unconditionally, a man to hold me and make love to me like a real woman. I want to have a family of my own. I want to have a big house filled with the sound of my children laughing and playing and a kitchen filled with the scent of dinner cooking and a pie sitting on the windowsill. I want so much more out of my life than what you are offering me."

With a flourish she whirled around to face back out over the bluff, hot, streaming tears poured from her eyes as she bore her soul out to the Prime and allowed her emotions to fully swath every one of her bonds. She needed them to feel what she was feeling. She needed them to know how hard this was for her.

The fear any of them had felt before was quickly swallowed by their all consuming regret at what she was having to live with. The fear of what she could do if given half the chance was still there under the surface, but it was muted now that she wasn't frontally aggressive towards the Prime.

"I won't get the chance at a lot of that now and you know it. It's possible that I can't be the dancer that I want to be because my 'fame' would attract too much attention. I can't travel so much because I have to be around you all for both my protection as well as my own insecurities. I can't stand to be away from you all for too long. It hurts to do it.

"What's worse, I can't have children or a husband without having to live through their entire lives and watching them die, be buried in a cemetery plot or have their ashes scatted to the four winds. I can't do that to myself, Optimus. I just _can't_! I wish that I could be a selfish bitch about all of this. I wish that I could tell you all to kiss my ass and go to Hell. I wish that I could just walk away from all of this and have the normal life that I've always wanted, but I can't.

"And I don't really want to."

She choked on a sob with her next words and it took her a long moment to regain her ability to speak. For a second she felt like she might collapse, curl into a fetal ball in the grass, and cry her heart out. It was a very near thing.

"I don't want to lose what I have with you all. No matter how much grief I get from all of this, no matter how much I end up hurting in the end, I can't bring myself to regret getting inside Bumblebee all those months ago. I've seen and done things that no other human will ever get to do. I've made closer friends than I would have ever had if I'd never met any of you. When I think about not having you all in my life, I feel like my heart is going to implode. I think that if I were to be taken away right now, I would die. I just can't leave you. I can't leave _any_ of you."

She let the tears fall silently down her face for a few minutes more and Optimus allowed her the time to grieve for what she knew she was going to be losing. With a resigned sigh she half turned to stare back at the monolith that was Optimus Prime, the stars sparkling behind him in all their glory.

"I need you to promise me something right now, Optimus. I need you to promise me that you'll always be there for me in one way or another. I can't do this alone. I can't be alone now."

Everything was still for so long that Samantha feared that he would say no. She feared that he would walk away from her and her heart would shatter. She was connected to them all. She couldn't stand to go it alone anymore. She needed them to be there for her to lean on. She needed them to help her through all of these changes she was going to have to make in her life now that most all of her dreams had fallen to the wayside.

Then, almost in slow motion, she watched as Optimus came towards her. The monolith fell to his knees before her, set both hands to either side of her body, and actually groveled above her. She was in awe as she viewed his prostrate form. He was bowing in submission to her. Somehow she knew that this is what he was doing.

"I, Optimus Prime, Leader of the Autobots, pledge to you, Samantha Jane Witwicky, to always serve at your side. You have my life and loyalty. If you require anything ask it of me and I will come at your call. This I swear to you."

Samantha fought the urge not to let her jaw unhinge completely. As it was her mouth was gaped open like a landed fish and her eyes were comically large. It took her a long minute to compose herself, but when she did she raised her hands to either side of Optimus's face to graze her fingers over where his cheeks might have been if he were human.

"That's nice, Big Guy, but I only need your friendship." She pulled slightly and the Prime lowered further so that she could kiss his nose plates. "Thank you, Optimus."

Optimus rose slowly to his peds before glancing back over the bluff.

Samantha allowed herself the next several minutes to truly calm herself and wipe the tear tracks off of her face. She would have to try and process some of the things Optimus had told her at a later time as well as figure out where her life was headed, but for now she was just soaking it all in. She needed to get herself under control otherwise things would only end badly for her and everyone else.

She had been right, she knew that. She would outlive her parents, any lovers she might take, and all of her friends. If she had children she would most likely outlive them unless the nanites passed on to them. It was a curse that she did not want to risk passing on to future generations anyway. It would be cruel. To never know a true love to outlast eternity with, or at least that's how long it would seem to her, would be a fate worse than being damned in purgatory.

And she was living in that place in between Heaven and Hell right now.

She was living in between a normal life and one of pain and eternity. She would have no meaningful relationships with a guy, maybe even finding a husband, because he'd be gone before she could even blink.

_What the Hell is so appealing to girls nowadays about being a vampire?_ Her inner self griped. _Flawless skin? That's just being narcissistic. All the wealth obtained over the centuries? Materialistic. Never having to face death? I would far prefer it to seeing until the end of time alone._

_Oh Hell._ She cried inwardly. _I'm practically immortal._

Trying to get her mind off of her own miseries she was finally able to process the fact that she had literally frightened Optimus Prime and the other Autobots through their had to fight back the urge to smirk. They underestimated her. They knew that she could harness the Allspark's power, but in the recent months she had become more and more adept at drawing it in and out of herself. Not to mention when she drew it out she was learning to use the power more accurately. Instead of being a wave of power it was turning into a whip or bullet, very precise and just as deadly.

It seemed to her that the 'bots were too consumed with the thought of her being helpless to understand that she was a very capable individual. For months she'd been using her Sony boom-box as test subject for her exercises. She'd sit in front of it for hours, concentrating on the layer of power resting just under her skin which she had come to know as the Allspark's energy, and pushing it out towards the boom-box to activate or deactivate certain key sequences within it. She was able to circuit certain features differently and pulse power into area of the machine to make it move and work in ways that it had not been able to do before. Heck, without really understanding how she had been able to use the Allspark's power to pick up telecommunications from across seas through the receiver as easily as any local radio station.

While she was still young and physically weak, the Allspark was pure energy. It had the ability to be just as violent as it could be gentle. When she was worried for another's welfare she could use the power as a gentle caress. Under duress she could make all those around her wish that they were never born by flaring the power out in such a lash that one would think a fire-storm wimpy.

Apparently everyone was forgetting that she had enough power at her fingertips to bring a mech's frame back to full functioning from a continent and an ocean away. What then did that say about her ability to destroy even if she would never act out upon that ability?

Oh yes, they had a very good reason to be afraid of her if she so chose to hand down punishment.

Shaking her head she resigned herself to the fact that she would never do anything like that to anyone, at least not under normal circumstances. Only if a matter came down to a life or death decision would she make her stand. That didn't mean, though, that she couldn't place a healthy dose of cautiousness into the mechs.

The sound of an engine revving drew her attention outwardly. Her eyes scanned downward until they landed upon the green motorcycle behind them.

"Knockout has come to take you home." The Prime informed her stoically.

"All right." She affirmed softly.

She donned her gear once more, albeit a bit sluggishly. She was still absorbed with everything that had been said tonight. With a depressed sigh she mounted Knockout.

Looking up at the Autobot leader with her visor raised away from her face she allowed a faint smile to come to her lips. "Thank you for telling me your story, Big Guy."

"You are welcome, Samantha."

"And I'm sorry for blowing up on you like that. It's not excuse, but all the stress just kind of built up and I needed to let it out." She flushed with embarrassment and looked down at the handlebars.

"It is all right, Sweetspark. I pity any being that has to endure what you are being forced to." He admitted to her tenderly, his love for her swamping her heart. A fresh tear found its way to her red, overtired eyes. "Sleep well tonight."

"I'll try Optimus." She promised delicately before flicking her visor down and letting Knockout carry her away and home.

* * *

Optimus relayed what Samantha had spoken to him to the others and made sure to keep it stored within his databanks where all other information pertaining to Her resided. His soldiers all sent a confirmation that they understood what must happen now.

:: She will not understand the Pledge, Optimus. :: Jazz supplied through a private comm..

:: In time She will. For now She only needs to know that She has our loyalty. :: Optimus

:: I'll make my Pledge to Her tomorrow evening after Her practice at the studio. Knockout has already confirmed along with Bumblebee that they will Pledge to Her tonight when they drop Her off. :: Jazz

:: Very well. :: Optimus stated before cutting the communication off.

Sighing through his intakes, a gesture entirely too familiar to him for having resided on Earth for such a short period of time, he turned his optics up towards the stars. His processors played back images of a time when he and his Spark's brother had been comrades…a time of tolerable acceptance.

"You would have liked Her, brother." Optimus spoke to no one in particular, though his words were meant entirely for the one that had once been known as Megatronus. "She is a lot like you were. She is so full of life and fire. Given the chance I am sure that She could have softened your raging Spark."

Shaking his head to clear it, Optimus shifted on his peds before refocusing his attention out into the stars.

"Come soon my brethren. She is waiting for you all." Transforming back into his chosen terrestrial disguise, the Prime pressed onto the accelerator and made his engine roar. His attention focused inwardly as he remembered back to that time so long ago when he'd been forced to make a choice. To this day he wondered if he had made the correct one.

Rolling off down the hill, Prime allowed himself a heartfelt prayer. He tentatively stroked his bond with the little human femme and felt heartened when he received Her welcoming emotional embrace.

"May She guide us all home."

* * *

**Note****:** Howdy. Thank y'all for making this story even more popular than my first installment 'All the Stars In the Sky'. I am so thrilled over that fact! I know that this chapter is out pretty quickly since the last chapter, but I've had it in the cooker for a while now and was just tweaking it a little bit. A fair portion of Optimus's history was obtained through the book 'Tranformers: Exodus' by Alex Irvine so I would recommend you to read it. It was very enlightening to the history of Cybertron before the War and having come to Earth.

I also wanted everyone to make sure to check out my forum site if any of y'all wanted to see anything in particular from me. The link is here. Feel free to post what you want. Just replace the forward slashes with back-slashes and the (dot) with an actual .

http:\\fanfiction(dot)net/myforums/unbidden16/1719964/

As always I welcome reviews and criticism so long as you don't use vulgar language directed towards me and my readers. I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!

**Disclaimer****:** I do _not_ own Transformers.


	10. Chapter 10: By Any Means Necessary

**Chapter Ten: By Any Means Necessary**

"Samantha Jane Witwicky!" A deep, bass voice called ominously through the walls of the NEST Base currently located in the Nevada desert. At one end of the base, as completely out of range of any of the Autobot sensors as she could physically get, the blonde teen in question widened her eyes in alarm.

"Oh shiitake mushrooms." Michael Banes allowed in a harsh breath.

"Work faster!" Sam harried the other teen, her fingers working even more rapidly with the locking mechanism attached to the gangplank of the cargo plane. Mike shot her a scalding look as he fiddled less deftly with his own task. She had given him the instructions. All he had to do was follow them.

"What do you think I'm doing? Taking a holiday?" He groused, his eyes constantly flicking between her, his work, and the bottom of the gangplank as if suspecting a supped-up vehicle to pop up out of nowhere. "How did I let you talk me into this? They're going to skin me alive, put the skin back on, and then skin me again."

"No they won't." She assured him with a slight tilt to her lips. "The shock of the first peeling would kill you and they wouldn't be able to bring you back for a second round."

"Oh ha ha. Very funny."

Sam continued to work on the mechanism as quickly as she was able, carefully eliciting jolts of Allspark radiation to seep through her fingers and into the wiring. After what seemed like hours, which in actuality was only several dozen seconds, Sam heard the distinct clamp of metal right before the gangplank began to close.

"Yes!" She shouted, already hurrying for the cockpit of the smaller cargo plane.

"Why didn't you just get a helicopter?" Mike demanded as he finished with his panel and raced after her.

"Because they're all in use currently and this puppy here was scheduled for routine maintenance. It won't be missed, at least not initially, for another couple of hours." She responded simply, jumping into the pilot's chair.

"Do you really even know how to fly one of these things?"

"Sure I do." Sam replied cheerfully, snapping her harness around herself. Next came the headgear. A quick glance out of the corner of her eye showed the jock strapping himself into his own chair. "You at least have faith that I can, too, or else you'd be outside still."

"No I wouldn't." Mike answered emphatically. "If I stayed out there on the Tarmac, knowing full well what you were planning to do, I'd be deader quicker than I would be in here. At least in this thing it'll take them a few minutes to cut through the metal to squish me."

"Don't be so dramatic." The woman huffed, her eyes gleaming with a particular light that screamed 'I mean trouble'.

"Dramatic?" The jock laughed, snapping on his own helmet. "This coming from the girl hijacking a military cargo plane in order to fly over to Red Rock Canyon!"

"Well is it my fault that they forbade me from going to meet the latest Autobot making landfall and left this plane unattended?" She shot back innocently, a full-blown smile spreading across her face as she watched the final systems light up on the console before her. She'd gotten the plane started the first thing once she'd set out to perform her, she'd admit it, _reckless_ stunt.

"Because we were both idiots once already."

"Were not!"

"Were too!"

"Were not!" She held up a staying hand when she saw that her friend was about to open his mouth to rebuke her once more. "Let's not start. Okay, so we weren't exactly smart, per say, but we weren't idiots, either. It could have happened to anyone."

"But it didn't. It happened to us."

Sam flinched inwardly as she thought back to the very incident that Mike was referring to.

It had been a couple days after her talk with Optimus at the Bluff that she and Mike decided that they both needed a break from the stresses of their no longer normal lives. While Mike wasn't nearly as involved with the Autobots and NEST as she was, nobody really was, he still had to sacrifice at least two weeks out of every month to plan and confer with NEST on how he was going to conduct himself. While he could still play sports, he couldn't afford to become too well known. Like her, Mike was going to be forced into a semi-quiet life so as to prevent detection by the masses.

Following a small argument, one in which Sam tried to convince the jock that a trip to Santa Cruz, California would be a beach-bum's haven and Mike tried to press that Las Vegas would be far more entertaining to two 'just barely adults' as opposed to a fishy smelling stretch of sand, they had agreed to disagree. In the end they decided to go camping up at the Santa Rosa Peak in the Homboldt Toiyabe National Forest. They had each been there before as children and enjoyed themselves immensely. The scenery was to die for and they both could use the exercise.

It had taken days of begging to get Optimus to relent and allow her to go up into the mountains. Unfortunately she had been assigned an escort. Two, actually. Being the 'off-roading' champs of the group, at least in alt-mode, Salvage and Ironhide had been charged with her care.

Sam wanted to smirk to herself when she thought of the feelings of outrage and worry that flooded her bonds with the two when she and Mika had up and ditched the duo during a hike. The two humans had known that the Cybertronians could not follow them in their alt-modes up the mountain since most all of the terrain was made for hikers and forest animals, not vehicles, and had taken advantage of that fact. They'd scurried away before anything could be done about it. She'd had to bombard them all with comforting, almost swaddling feelings of love and warmth to keep the two from transforming, plucking them right up off of the ground, and carrying them forcefully back to the base. It had worked, but just barely.

Everything had gone very well for the first two days. She and Mike had enjoyed two days worth of hiking, relaxing, and eating the preserved foods they had stashed in their backpacks. It was on the third day, though, that Mike had persuaded Sam to skirt the edge of a ravine with him. It had only gone downhill from there.

Literally.

The ravine, as it turns out, had been shale. It was a dangerously thin rock formation, layered as it was, but when one sheet broke it was all doomed to tumble down like a landslide. It was quite unsettling to be the one on top of this ledge when it decided to break. Screaming all the way, she coasted the entire way down the forty foot ravine, somehow managing to only receive a couple dozen scrapes and bruises instead of broken bones. It probably had something to do with the fact that she hadn't dropped straight down. She'd pretty much just ridden the falling shale as a kind of impromptu surfboard. If she'd fallen straight down Sam knew that without a shadow of a doubt that she would be dead.

At the base of the ravine she had gathered herself together enough to look up at where Mike stood staring wide-eyed down at her. When he shouted down towards her asking after her physical wellbeing she'd flipped him the bird…several times. It took only a few minutes to assess the very minimum damage she had sustained and report back that yes, she was fine, if not peevish.

"What are we going to do now?" Mike called back fretfully, his eyes probably scanning just as frantically for a way back out of the ravine as hers were.

"What do you mean 'what are we going to do now?'? We're going to find me a way out of here before I end up under house arrest by aliens from outer space until the next Ice Age!" She shouted in a panic, all the while trying to suppress her feelings of fear, pain, and newfound anxiety.

Too bad for her that while her shields were working _now_ they had not been when she had been fearing for her life in the fall. Before she could even attempt to climb her way back out of the ravine, someway, her entire essence, her soul, was engulfed and swaddled completely by the Autobots.

"Oh shit." Samantha whispered as she felt the all consuming fury that coursed through all of them, even Optimus, at her disregard for her own safety. That was not the only feeling, however. Oh no. There was also a healthy dosage of disappointment and a frighteningly steel-like resolve to keep her permanently safe.

"Sam?" Mike's voice shook as he stumbled as close as he dared to the edge of the ravine. "Do you hear that?"

She tuned her ears in as much as she could to her surroundings and whimpered when she heard the telltale sounds of engines roaring and massive metal peds thundering against the ground. She could feel herself paling as much as Mike had when he'd caught the noise.

"I'm so screwed" Each of them chorused.

It hadn't taken more than an hour for Ironhide and Salvage to tower over the ravine with something beyond terrifying gleaming in their optics, tow her up and out of it with a Cybertronian-length tow cable, and ceremoniously pluck her up off of her own feet to be carried back towards the jeep trails. Ironhide had picked the jock up in a less than pleased move and followed Salvage towards the jeep trails.

Sam fought the urge not to cry when she was all but ordered into Salvage's alt mode when he'd transformed and strapped in very securely to the passenger seat. Salvage's seat belts were the kind found in race cars or stunt vehicles, strapping over the chest, between the legs, and over the shoulders. She was always pinned easily with any other seatbelt, but this set was distinctly different…as much as a commercial airliner was from a prop plane. Salvage had not spoken to her once the entire four hour drive back to the base. He'd allowed the radio to play, but nothing else.

She couldn't even talk to Mike because Ironhide was driving him!

By the time they'd gotten back to the base she'd been placed into lockdown…at least that's what she called it. Her parents had been informed without her knowledge that for the next week she would be staying at the base all while she was being looked over by a nervous Ratchet. She'd been watched like she was a toddler having first learned to walk and was getting into everything she shouldn't have been. She'd been treated even more like a baby than ever before, being carried almost everywhere, doted over, and treated like spun glass.

She couldn't take it.

It had taken the world's biggest tantrum and a screaming match, one in which she was pretty much the only one actually yelling, to get them to ease off of the coddling and talk to her. Actually, it had taken a ferocious wave of Allspark energy directed straight at each of their sparks which temporarily stunned them to get any kind of response that she wanted. It had also left her a bit winded, but it was worth it.

In the end Samantha had won a very small victory, but she had a feeling that she'd had more 'casualties' than the mechs in their negotiations. In the end she'd been permitted off of the base, with an escort of course, but now in addition to having a permanent babysitter, a.k.a. Bumblebee, she was going to be forced to carry around a new piece of technology that looked very much like a Bluetooth. Besides having communication capabilities like her phone, it was also a lojack and physical synapses reader. Apparently her little stunt of trying to block off her end of the bond after falling to prevent detection had not gone unnoticed. In fact, it wasn't going to be tolerated…period. While there was the advantage that so long as her body wasn't in danger of collapsing upon itself in exhaustion or pain, the Autobots would not attempt to kidnap her from her 'normal' life, there was the issue that they might know her physical well-being even before she did.

_They better not get even more paranoid and pick me up from school one day just because I have the sniffles._ The inner her groused as they explained the usage of her new ear-piece. _I'll kick someone's aft royally if they even think about it!_

The ear-piece was quite pretty, really. In fact, it almost looked like an earring if it didn't have the small speaker which she would set into her ear canal whenever she was out of range of any of the mechs. It was silver and lavender in color, maybe two inches long and not even a centimeter wide. The lavender was traced onto the metallic device in a tribal-like pattern which Sam understood to be the Cybertronian language. From what she understood, this Cybertonian language was the more modern one, the one that most from Cybertron might understand. Only ancient Cybertronians might understand another one of their languages…that of the Primes.

All that aside, Sam was made to understand that if she wished to continue with her semi-normal existence she would make sure that the ear-piece would never leave her person and always be in use while away from an appointed Guardian. It had been a reluctant agreement, but it won her her freedom…and the ability to talk to Mike again.

The ear-piece was in her ear now, fully functional she was sure since she could hear multiple, somewhat panicked, but mostly angry voices trying to raise her. A rueful smile curled on her lips. She had agreed to wear the ear-piece, but she had not agreed to use it in return.

_They really need to learn to be more specific in their demands of me. It's just too easy working around all the red tape they've set up around me._

She'd been banned from going out to meet the new 'bot due to her 'serious fault in judgement' back at the trail as well as their belief in her sudden frailty. She'd healed completely from the fall, but the mechs seemed to be under the delusion that she was no better than a cripple in a wheelchair. A trip across the state would be _much_ too stressful for her.

_I'll show them…overgrown toaster ovens!_

"So," Mike began with a slightly trembling voice, "are we ready to go? If we're going to risk our lives we might as well get it over with before they nab us."

"You'll drop the subject? Just like that?" She chortled, her fingers flickering over the console adeptly.

"I'll bring it up later when our lives are in slightly less peril, thank you very much." The jock, despite knowing nothing about airplanes and any of their counterparts, set his hands unflinchingly onto the joystick that served as the cargo plane's steering wheel. "So, how do you fly this thing?"

"You aren't going to be flying it." Sam laughed, her eyes sparkling with combined mischief and joy. "I am. If you were the one to try and get this bird off the ground we both would be dead."

"Gee, thanks. How do you know how to fly a plane, anyway? I'm pretty sure that Tranquility High doesn't have a course for this kind of thing. Actually, how did you know how to rewire those locks? That isn't the kind of knowledge an eighteen year old has."

"Side effect." Sam muttered, her heart suddenly heavier.

"Side effect?" Mike echoed, his tone suddenly remorseful. "The Allspark, again?"

While Mike was a civilian, he was still her closest friend who was 'in the loop' and she had been inclined to tell him at least some of her story. Optimus was not against the idea, but he had stated that she could not tell the teen everything just as she could not tell Lennox or anyone else the whole truth. She had no problems with that. Truthfully, she knew that it was better that they did not know the whole truth of the matter.

She'd settled for telling him some months ago that the Allspark had transferred its power into her via tiny nanites, mechanisms he was familiar with since he was such a closet science-buff, and that the nanites were steadily taking command. He had been worried at first when she'd phrased it that way until she'd told him that it wasn't as drastic as it sounded. She was always going to be her, but the nanites were just making being human a little harder than normal.

"Yeah," Sam sighed dejectedly, ignoring Bumblebee's frantic calls through her Bluetooth, for lack of a better word. "The dreams are getting worse. I'm seeing more and retaining more of what I've seen. Maybe a month ago I went through a dreamscape full of flight sequences. When I woke up I had a splitting headache. I wouldn't have even registered that I knew how to fly planes until Skid and Mudflap asked me to play one of those new war plane, dog-fighting games. I kept thinking that the jet propulsions and flight patterns we were initiating didn't coincide with the aerodynamic capabilities of the planes we were flying and then it just clicked in my head. I knew how planes worked…and I knew that I could fly."

"Well," the jock began softly, his lips pursing into a thin line, "that's kind of…cool I guess."

Samantha allowed a small, self depreciating chuckle to escape before she passed a sidelong glance at Mike. She wouldn't call it cool, but she appreciated his attempt to ease the tension that had built within the confines of the cockpit.

Just then she felt a definite tug of apprehension, shock, and absolute horror assail her through the bond. She almost felt like cackling maniacally when she traced that source back to Ironhide, whom she could feel making a sudden beeline from the other side of the base towards where he had managed to pick up her tracking signal. She'd been dampening the innate tracking signal that accompanied the bond, but she hadn't fiddled with the Bluetooth at all. She'd kept her promise. Too bad they'd underestimated her.

"Let's get this show on the road." Sam smiled wider, unknowingly frightening her friend with the strange twinkle in her eye and the slightly deranged grin.

* * *

"Sweet Earth! Oh how I missed thee!" Michael practically stumbled over himself as he ran down the rear gangplank of the cargo plane to kiss the ground with little finesse.

"Oh shut up!" Sam shouted after him, her lips scowling viciously. "And you called me dramatic? You could win an Emmy for this little show you're putting on."

Inwardly she was actually almost as relieved as Mike was. Apparently simply knowing how to fly a plane didn't equate to physical knowledge. It was like firing a toy gun at a county fair. You knew how to use a gun, the fundamentals of it, but the second you got your hands on the real thing you found out that you were _way_ out of your element. Oh yes, she'd gotten them off the ground without a hitch, after having deftly avoided being boarded by frenzied military personnel…a good thing she'd had them rewire the gangplank to keep it from opening without their consent…but the second they'd gotten into the air it had been a whole new ball game. She'd been as stiff as a board, trying not to panic when she realized that she hadn't even had a simulation to go by. She'd just had the know-how.

_Should I tell Mike that?_ She thought to herself, looking at the male's still slightly shaking body. _Nah. He's already panicked. No need to make him pee himself now that he's no longer in immediate danger._

Speaking of danger…

Samantha winced as the reaming continued over the Bluetooth. It seemed that even though she wasn't answering them with words, though she was sending as many soothing waves their way as she could, the bots were content with ripping her a new one. She'd been told several times already that on no uncertain terms that she was 'grounded', literally and figuratively, and that she was going to be treated like the child she so obviously was. She didn't much like the sound of that, but figured that she could eventually weasel her way out of her punishment once the brunt of their anger had passed. She had no delusions that she would go scot free, but she was certain that she wouldn't be as hampered in the future as a dog on a leash.

Would she?

"You said you knew how to fly!" Mike accused, his eyes smoldering from where he still hunkered close to the ground as if afraid she'd pluck him back up into the skies once more. As if!

"I do. We got here without incident, didn't we?" _Act nonchalant. The inner Sam chanted merrily. That's the key. He'll never have to know that I was a complete idiot and could have killed us. He doesn't have to know that I was half-tempted out of fear of doing something wrong and crashing to put on a parachute and jump. He doesn't have to know that I was ready to act like the baby the bots are determined to treat me as and curl up into a ball and cry for my Guardian. Nope. He doesn't need to know. Just act nonchalant._

"You suck." The other teen hissed before shakily getting to his feet.

"You'll be fine." She snorted, trying desperately to tune out the bots, tamp down her nervousness from the flight, and maintain an air of aloofness all at once.

"We'll be arrested, you know that right?" Mike questioned seriously, his eyes blazing. "We stole a military plane, flew without licenses, and landed in a fairly popular area for tourists. We're lucky that no one's here right now to see us or there'd be witnesses, too."

Under any other circumstances Samantha would have been inclined to agree with the jock, but things were far more complex than what he was making them out to be. She knew that they wouldn't be arrested, especially her, because in the whole time she had come to know the Autobots and work with them she had won diplomatic immunity. She had a lot of rights that normal people shouldn't have had. She knew that the most that either of them would be made to suffer would be a reaming from Major William Lennox, possible even Admiral Morshower or Secretary Keller, and then a serious 'discussion' from the Autobots themselves.

Sighing deeply, Sam tried to push the reluctant acceptance away, knowing full well that she was about to learn exactly how good she had had it with her freedom. After this, loath as she was to admit it, she was going to have her hands tied figuratively…possibly even literally depending upon how well she could waylay their anger.

"Incoming." The other teen grumbled, his lips drawn down into a severe scowl.

She turned her attention outward towards the horizon. Sure enough, making a beeline for where they now stood, Sam could see several dark, ominous specks with dust trails seemingly a mile long. They remained near the plane for several reasons, one of which being that it would provide at least minimal protection in case one of the 'bots decided to go nuclear. They were not Decepticons, but that did not make them any less terrifying when they were in a snit.

Her Bluetooth went completely silent for the span of at least thirty seconds and she could feel her heart suddenly plummet at that. They had been yelling at her incessantly since Ironhide had first bellowed out her name when she'd disappeared from their radar. This silence did not bode well for her.

"Samantha," the Prime's voice intoned in a deathly serious, murderously calm voice over the Bluetooth, "you going to learn momentarily how truly foolish your actions were. If you insist on acting like a Sparkling, then by Primus, you will be treated as such."

She gulped, feeling very suddenly like the child the nanites perceived her to be. She was just barely able to fend off the urge to burst out into tears and beg forgiveness. As it was, she bit her lip to keep it from quivering for all to see.

"Will it be any consolation on my part that I am whole and healthy and Mike is as well?" She questioned back into the Bluetooth for the first time since ditching Ironhide back at the base. It was a prideful thing that her voice didn't shake at all.

"Not hardly." Came the gruff response.

She was left alone then to pile-drive warmth, comfort, and ease into the bonds she shared with each mech. She could feel the block they all imposed to those feelings and flinched.

_I am so dead_.

"Any last words?" Mike questioned her, his face growing slightly pale.

"Nah. I've said all I ever wanted to everyone. What about you?" That was it. All she had to do was play the cool card. If she played indifferent then maybe she wouldn't break down and cry.

"Yeah. One thing." He forced a smile onto his lips as he gave her a sidelong once-over. "You're the hottest girl I've ever met, but I could never see myself dating you because you're too much like a sister to me."

"Good to know." A wry chuckle fell from her lips. "You're not so bad yourself, but things would never work out between us. You're just not my type."

"Ditto." The jock scratched the back of his short-cropped head with his blunt fingers nervously. "I'll hum the death march if you look for a softer spot for our bodies to land when they cut us down."

"Sure."

That was the end of their dialogue. Sam cringed in the absolute silence that descended between them as they awaited the arrival of the Autobots. She tried to concentrate solely on the feel of the incoming Cybertronian, but without a connection yet established fully between them she couldn't truly ignore the others. She was grateful for the fact that at least the new 'bot was close otherwise she'd be in for the brunt of her punishment at this very moment.

Among those present were Optimus, Bumblebee, Ratchet, and Longarm. Beyond them, coming at a more sedate pace, was a military convoy in the shape of a black H1 Hummer. She knew without a doubt that USAF Master Sergeant Robert Epps would be in the convoy as well as several other humans from the base. So, her humiliation would be complete.

As soon as the Autobots had reached them they circled, effectively cutting off any means of escape. Of course she was well aware of this tactic. If she didn't want to be caught, at least not immediately, she would have gotten them both right back into the cargo plane. It would have done a few things. They would have received a momentary reprieve until the 'bots cracked the plane open like a tuna-can or even gotten them right back to the base before they could descend onto them, but it would also only serve to enrage them more.

Longarm took the rear, blocking their ability to reenter the plane, while Optimus sat directly before them. Bumblebee and Ratchet had flanking positions. The only emotion flickering to her from them was supreme disappointment. She felt sick at how wrongly she'd used them.

They all initiated their transformations at the same time, the clicks and whirls of sound echoing across the valley. The rock walls surrounding them so marvelously ricocheted the sound back to them eerily. By the time the transformations were completed, the military Hummer had arrived.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" Epps thundered, his normally dark face suffused with so much heated blood that his skin literally looked charred. His eyes sparked angrily as he took in the cargo plane tucked conspicuously behind them. "They said you flew here, but I guess I didn't understand. You are in deep shit, Samantha. What's worse, you had to drag Mike into this!"

"I chose to come!" The other teen defended her, his blue eyes glittering. "I have my own mind. It may have been stupid, but I decided to come with her. If I get in worse trouble for it, then so be it."

"I appreciate the bravado, kid, but we'll see how tough you are once we get you two back to base." Epps sent her a pointed look.

"Samantha." Her main Guardian's voice dropped down to her from where he stood to her immediate right. She flinched at the tone. Bumblebee was furious and she could tell by the flat, uncompromising lilt in which he spoke. "Come here."

Looking up she tried to make herself smile, but all she could must was a self-depreciating grimace. Her feet shuffled forward as she dropped her head back down. In the back of her mind she couldn't help but find the similarities of her walk now to one a correctional officer might see on the face of a criminal being led to their demise at the electric chair.

As soon as she was within snatching distance she found herself plucked up off the ground and pulled tightly to Bee's yellow chassis. Despite everything Samantha couldn't help but sigh in contentment at being so close to his Spark. It thrummed out to her in welcoming.

"You understand that your movements are going to be severely hampered for the foreseeable future, do you not?" Bumblebee questioned her, his words softer, yet no less lethal.

"Yeah. I understand."

"We will discuss your punishment later. Sideswipe is en-route. ETA two minutes."

"Sideswipe?" Was that excitement in her voice? Yep, she was pretty sure that it was. "Oh, I couldn't tell who it was! I can't wait to meet him! There aren't many identical twins out there. But wait…I don't feel Sunstreaker, too."

Samantha's face scrunched up in consternation as she plugged deeper into her still new and not yet whole connection with Sideswipe. She hadn't been wrong. Sideswipe _was_ alone. That didn't seem right. From what Ratchet and the others had been teaching her about Cybertronians and Cybertron itself, twins were rarely apart. Even fraternal twins like Skids and Mudflap were always together. It would take something drastic, something major to separate them physically.

"I am certain that he will be just as anxious to meet you, too, Sweetspark." Ratchet said with such fondness that she could almost believe that he had forgotten about her theft and escape earlier. "We must wait for him to land, however, before we can question him."

Together they watched the skies. It did not take long before the lone 'meteor' streaked across the sky to land not even a mile away from them. Samantha felt the jittery excitement coursing through her veins in waiting for the Cybertronian to make his way towards them. Being gripped so tightly to her Guardian's chassis, though, kept her from hopping enthusiastically like she wanted to.

Minutes passed before, seemingly taking forever to Samantha, Sideswipe came into site. At first she noticed how compact the vehicle looked, sleek and silver. She thought that he might be in his Cybertronian vehicle form as she had never seen the vague shape before. By the time he reached a point that she could visually make out the differences in his frame to that of a Cybertronian vehicle she gasped.

Mike, too, was stunned, but more vocal.

"Sweet Jesus!" Michael shouted with unadulterated joy. "Look at that! How did he get that form? I've only vaguely heard of its possible concept!"

Sam's jaw hung unattractively as she watched the Corvette peel up next to them, the dust kicking up behind it doing nothing to deter from the vehicle's splendor. Mike was right. His vehicle was not one that you'd find out on the streets…ever! This car wasn't even a concept yet!

"You're a Stingray." She muttered stupidly, her eyes wide.

"That's right." Sideswipe's voice was surprisingly deep and raspy for being around Bumblebee's size, perhaps a foot or so shorter. Sam reached out internally, following the tentative bond she had been creating with the front-liner while he was still in outer space. Forcing back the sigh of relief, she felt the telltale connection solidifying between them. His memories rushed her, most of them flashing by her mind's eye before she could truly comprehend them. The key feature in any of the mental images she caught was the golden look-alike to Sideswipe. Another fact caused her to voice her question aloud, though.

"Why aren't you red in color?"

Sideswipe laughed then before folding open into his bipedal form. Her heart stuttered at the threatening looking wrist daggers that plunged down past the Autobot's ankles. Instead of peds Sideswipe balanced himself on two tires. His face was owl-like with the sharpened crown and crest and nearly boxed eyes and mouth. His chassis was sharply pointed, giving him the impression of being leaner in 'muscle' than Ironhide, Salvage, or any of the other heavy duty Transformers. Overall his bipedal form was just as stunningly beautiful as his chosen alternate mode.

"Two reasons. The first is that a choice of silver for a vehicle here is less noticeable than red. The second is that without my twin here I feel no need to show off my superiority as much." There was some measure of gloating in the words that gave away his narcissism, but from what Samantha could feel of the newcomer she could tell that he was not overly egotistical. In fact, he acted much better than Vicky did in those regards.

"Now I have a question." Sideswipe purred, yes he purred, out as he bent to look her eye to optic. "May I have permission to hold the femme that led me back to my comrades?"

"Uh-sure." She flushed as Bumblebee easily passed her into the only slightly smaller servos of the Corvette. The rosy blush in her cheeks only grew hotter when the newer mech embraced her almost lovingly closer to his Spark Chamber. She could feel his pleasure at having her finally close. His Spark pulsed graciously to her, the warmth of the 'touch' reaching down to her very core.

Not surprisingly she found herself growing drowsy in Sideswipe's hold.

_Don't fall asleep!_ The inner her screamed helplessly. _No! Stay awake! You're not a baby. You don't need naps. You shouldn't even need a nap at this time of day!_

She listened to the voice reluctantly and turned her attention outward to the now conversing Autobots.

"It is good to see you again, old friend." Optimus greeted the smaller 'bot with obvious familiarity. "Where is your brother? We had fully expected you to make entry with him."

"Sunstreaker is defending the _Ark_ with the others. Ever since you received Bumblebee's call and left the ship we have been collecting more and more stragglers. It is a slow process, but we have located several other troops taking refuge in other solar systems. Sunstreaker had every intention of making landfall with me, but he was needed to fend off the latest Decepticon incursion. I tell you Optimus, they do not quit."

"Nor will they." The Prime assured his subordinate, his optics darkening for a long moment in thought before brightening again.

"Does it hurt?" Her question brought everyone's attention back to her. It was a struggle not to squirm shyly. "Being away from your brother?"

"No." Sideswipe assured her, his Spark pulsing and the bond that had built so quickly between them being warmed over by sweet caring. "It is just slightly uncomfortable in emotion. It is like I am missing another part of myself, but so long as Sunny is well I will not hurt. The same can be said for him."

"Oh." Sam snuggled back into Sideswipe's chassis, enjoying the calm before the storm…the storm being her punishment later.

"And who are you, kid?" The new mech spoke down to the other teen on the ground.

"My name's Mike. I'm Sam's friend."

"Her mate?"

Both teens stuttered at that, Sam nearly choking on her own spit and Mike falling over with uncontrollable laughter. She shot daggers down at the male before focusing back onto the front-liner who was giving her a dubious expression.

"We're _just_ friends." She asserted forcefully, trying with all of her might to ignore Mike's laughter. "Besides, he's just a regular male. I need something better than what he'd give me."

"Excuse me?" Mike thundered, his anger mixing with good-natured friendship. The laughter was gone and Sam knew that she was about to have fun. "This coming from you, a woman that is a lot like a laxative. You irritate the shit out of me."

"Save it. At least if I had a choice I'd get a government bond before I ever started seeing you. At least those bonds mature."

"Well I'd prefer a hangover over you! At least a hangover goes away!"

"Puh-lease! God created women because right after he made men he knew he could do better!" Samantha taunted back, enjoying their word play.

The 'bots, she could feel, were all rolling their proverbial eyes at their antics. Sideswipe's attention was darting between them as their verbal volley continued before he addressed the others.

"And they are allies?"

"Like brother and sister." Bumblebee told the other, a smile in his voice. "They live to torture each other this way. Still, I believe they would both lose an arm for each other.

"Too bad that guy that finally figured women out died of laughter, otherwise I might know how to shut you up." Mike yelled upwards, his arms crossed over his chest. Sideswipe had to shift his hold on her to keep her from plummeting out of his arms down on top of the jock.

"I'm so happy that I don't have to live with you. Goodness knows you'd never remember my name since the only one that matters is the one that belongs to the person that makes all your decisions for you…your penis!"

"Come down here and say that A-Cup."

"Not a chance, Numb Nuts."

"Degenerate."

"Paramecium."

"Pantywaist!"

"Jerk Off!"

There was silence between them for a minute or so, the only sounds being made at all were their deep breaths. Epps had a wide smile on his face, shaking his head. The other humans looked shocked, but kept their mouths shut. Then, when it seemed that another insult might fly, both teens dissolved into laughter.

The Autobots stared down at the young duo before conversing between themselves again, determined to ignore their childishness for the moment.

"It is time to return to the base. The children will return to the plane with Ratchet and Sideswipe. Ratchet will take over control of the aircraft manually. The rest of us will return as soon as we are able." Optimus dished out his orders evenly before looking back to the children.

"Prime, I nearly forgot…" Sideswipe began simply, his hold on Samantha strengthening as she shifter her weight. Ratchet had already moved to gather Mike up into his own servos. "Wheeljack gave me the holoform program to send to you through datapack. It is fully functional again."

All of the human, even the soldiers, grew stiff and serious at that remark. The teens were the only ones to look at each other and pale entirely. The devastated 'no' they shouted in unison could have been heard more than ten miles away by anyone that cared to think of the sound as more than the blowing wind.

Both Sam and Mike fought uselessly to get out of their respective captors' servos. Samantha didn't particularly care where she would be running to or even if she'd hit civilization. All she knew was that she was not going to be made to suffer the attentions of any Autobot, specifically Ratchet, with the capabilities that any other human might have.

She was never going to be left alone again!

"Viva la resistance!" She shouted, not caring that's she sounded like an idiot. Nor did she care to see that every other human present was under the same persuasion to run for the hills.

All she cared about was that she was going to get free and avoid her punishment.

By any means necessary!

* * *

Apparently she'd been wrong.

Samantha was currently draped over Beachbreak's lap, her hands pinned behind her back by one of his larger servos. She had been struggling for the past thirty minutes straight, a feat she was certain she would have had no strength to do if she had not had the nanites in her system, but after that first half-hour she'd tired much too rapidly for her tastes.

As soon as they'd returned from the desert she'd been sequestered into Ratchet's medical bay. She had no idea where Mike was. All she knew was that the other teen was not going to be injured in any way…she'd made them all promise that. They'd seemed somewhat upset that she'd felt that she had to ask, but she could see that at least a few of them were upset that they couldn't teach the boy a lesson in who and who not to play with.

She wasn't someone he was allowed to play with, evidently.

Only Ratchet, Jolt, and Beachbreak had been in the room to start out with. Jolt had been working tirelessly on something that she couldn't see while Ratchet, she knew, was already downloading the holoform program. According to Sideswipe, as he'd told her on the return to the base, the program would take at least five hours to initiate and be of any use to any of them. So she was saved from the holoforms for at least another five hours.

Unfortunately there was another Autobot far closer to a human's size than she was comfortable with.

Beachbreak had seated her down in front of one of the computers to have a long, humiliating chat with Secretary Keller and the new _General_ Morshower. The two men had been adamant about their refusal to allow her any special treatment, especially after this little stunt. She was grounded indefinitely…and not by her parents. Oh no, the Autobots and her government grounded her. In essence, she was under house arrest.

_Bastards_.

As soon as she'd gotten off the communicator with the two men Ratchet had started chewing into her. It had been a feat in itself not to degenerate into tears. In the end, with complete approval from Optimus Prime, she was assigned a physical bodyguard/babysitter for the foreseeable future. With the holoform program back in their possession she was going to be shadowed even more.

She was also made to start writing a rule book of things that she and the other humans on base were and were not permitted to do including appropriate punishments. Each 'bot would keep a copy of the rule book with them and there would be no compunctions about throwing it back into her face when she did something so stupid. She wouldn't even be allowed to lessen a punishment to something she found more acceptable because the rules would have to go through the Prime and Jazz for approval. Despite his laid-back attitude, Jazz was a strict taskmaster and just as enraged by her latest deviant behavior as the others.

To make matters worse another measure was going to be taken to ensure that she never had the chance to do something like this again.

Which was how she came to be pulled across Beachbreak's lap.

"If you spank me, I swear to God that I'll pull out your Energon lines one by one!" She crowed, fighting viciously to get off of the hard lap. She kicked her legs with what little energy she had left, but quickly found those, too, immobilized by a thick metallic arm over the backs of her knees. Her face was so close to the ground, which happened to be one of the tables Ratchet worked and examined on, that she was certain that if she stretched enough she could get her hair to tickle over it.

They did not speak. Instead, she heard a faint click from behind her. Trying to arch her back to see did no good so she was forced to rely solely on her ears. She strained to catch the sound of what sounded like a marble clanking down a short tube, only far smaller. So atuned to that she didn't even have time to flinch when the pants she'd worn were pulled down only slightly to reveal her lower hip and upper butt cheek and a sharp bite to hit her right cheek. She squeaked from the minor pain, almost like a bug-bite, before it was gone entirely and her pants automatically slipped back upwards.

"What was that?" She demanded.

"A microchip." Ratchet informed her succinctly. Her eyes widened.

"You cannot do that! I'm not a dog!" She cried indignantly.

"You are correct that you are not a dog. Unfortunately, you seem to have the same tendencies to run away as the canine species. That microchip is for tracking since we cannot trust you to always put your communicator back into your ear every morning. It is also a failsafe in case anything were to go wrong and you _were_ taken."

"You didn't even ask me!"

"Would you have said 'yes'?"

"No!"

"That is why we did it this way." Ratchet spoke so smugly that she was tempted to slap that inward smirk right off his faceplates. Before she could work herself up enough to respond to that she felt something warm and pliable snake around her ankle.

"What now?" She screamed, kicking her right leg suddenly to get whatever it was off. The object did not move. She felt Allspark energy leach into the thing before it expanded and solidified up her calf and down over the top of her foot. I almost felt like vines had spread over her lower leg before they settled so lightly that she wasn't even sure it was there to begin with.

In moments she was set upright onto her own two feet. She lunged away from the sitting Beachbreak and darted a glance down to her foot. A gasp tore its way out of her throat.

"What is this thing?" She whispered in a mixture of horror and awe.

She sat down to pull her put up into her lap. She pushed her sneaker and sock off in one swipe only to find the thing had indeed travelled under her shoe to adhere itself to her foot. The thing looked like a silver tattoo. What looked to be Cybertronian words were attached to her skin from just below her knee on the right hand side, around her ankle on the left side, and then back over the top of her foot on the right side. She fingered the entire pattern carefully. The thing was smooth on her skin. If it weren't for the metallic feel should _would_ have called it a tattoo.

"I had not expected it to take that shape, but it does not truly surprise me that the Allspark altered it to suit the wearer. It has no appropriate word in the human language, but it was designed many vorns before I was Sparked for the Minicons of Cybertron. In the mines it was too easy for the Minicons to become separated from the main diggers. These…"

"Tattoos?" Samantha supplied, not knowing what else to call it.

"Yes, tattoos will suffice, were applied somewhere to their frames. These tattoos alerted the other Cybertronians programmed with the frequency to these tattoos of the Minicon going out of range of them. It made keeping an optic on each other easier."

"So, what?" Sam began, anger bubbling up in her. "Are you saying that this thing will ping off to any one of you guys when I am out of range of any of you?"

"Yes."

"You jackass!" She thundered, attempting to use the Allspark's power to pull the cursed thing off. Her eyes practically popped out of her skull when she realized that the Allspark's power only caressed and made the tattoo stronger. "What…the…hell?"

"The tattoos were designed to be used without hindrance near Energon and Allspark power. Think of it as a neutral atom. It is neither positive nor negative, so there is nothing that had a direct affect on it. The only way to take the tattoo off is to either initiate the cancellation programming or cut the skin off of your leg. I do not recommend the last option and only as a whole can we cancel the programming within the tattoo. Basically, Samantha, you are stuck."

"This is underhanded. Like, big time." She groused, running her fingers over the particularly beautiful tattoo.

"In all honestly, Sweetspark, this would have happened in the near future anyway." That caught her attention. Her gaze darted up towards the CMO who was staring down at her. He nodded his head. "Yes. You heard me correctly. This device would have been applied within the next week or two regardless of what happened today."

"But _why_? If you had just waited and explained to me what was going on I probably would have relented and let you apply the tattoo. It's for my safety, I get that, but doing it this way seems cruel."

_Are you pouting? Get that sad look off of your face! You're supposed to be mad!_

"It may seem cruel, Sweetspark, but it is not. You are our responsibility. You deserve our respect, but you must show us that you are capable of being that adult that you so insist you are." Beachbreak spoke solemnly to her, his left servo coming down to play with her long braid. "Do you think that your actions today were that of a grown adult capable of taking care of themselves and making their own wise decisions?"

"Well no, but that still doesn't mean that you have a right to go right back and act like children yourselves!" She insisted, her tone petulant. "You had no right to mark me like that. You acted like…Decepticons would. You got high-handed with me and thought that only your wants and desires mattered. That _hurts_."

"Samantha," Ratchet began softly, his optic shining brightly, "we are not all that different from the Decepticons. We are all Cybertronians. We were all originally designed with the same functions in mind. Our base programming is the same. The only true difference between our two factions is that in the journey for peace the Decepticons wish to dictate and rule with an iron fist to keep any upstarts from changing what they believe is right. The Autobots will do much, much more than you think we will for peace. The only thing we will not condone is the destruction of another being or race simply because their views are different."

"I don't get it."

Ratchet sighed. "Our faction has done our share of evil as well, Samantha. The Decepticons are cruel continuously because they choose to be so, but that same programming is in us as well.

"Cybertronians were created from a biological race, Sweetspark. We may have souls of our own and have our own minds, but we were all ultimately spawned from the same source. Far longer than _any_ Cybertronian activated or deactivated can recall, we were created by a race of biological beings seeking to destroy each other. Before we gained sentience all we were created for was destruction and despite the time between the First of us and now, that central programming has not completely gone away."

Samantha looked onto the CMO with shocked eyes. She felt her heart and stomach roll within her. She hadn't thought on it like that. She hadn't really wanted to, she supposed. Thinking, really thinking on it, she realized something very important.

The Autobots were acting like dogs would!

Domesticated dogs, despite being housebroken, taught new tricks, and raised to be obedient to their masters, were still essential wild animals underneath. They had instincts. They didn't kill regularly, but they _could_ and _would_ if provoked. They had a hierarchy between them, like alpha males and the other pack mates. They marked the things that were theirs. They were fiercely protective and possessive of what they saw was theirs. Humans were the ones foolish enough to think that they had taught dogs to be intellectual creatures and subservient to them. No matter what, a dog was ruled by its instincts.

To a Cybertronian, their instincts were their base programming. Years of selective breeding wasn't going to free them of the very thing that sustained them throughout their entire evolution. If anything, their base programming would only become more dominant because it would be obvious that those 'instincts' _did_ work. They might not use them all of the time, but those tendencies would still be at the forefront of their minds.

_So that's what happened. _She surmised inwardly. _I'm like a part of the pack now…a vital part. I'll be treated like pack. I'm treated like I have these same instincts. They're acting on instinct over logic. Instinct said to protect me, to claim me. The originals of their species were created as warriors and goodness knows what they were charged with doing back then, so is it so surprising that they are so physical in nature? So dominant and sometimes aggressive when their base programming kicks in?_

_Well damn!_ The inner her cursed, her right foot stomping. _That explains away why they did what they did, but I sure as snot don't have to like it or put up with it! I'm not Cybertronian, damn it! I will not be treated like I am!_

"All right, I'll concede to your point, but you understand this…" She growled out as she came to stand on her own two feet. She glared heavily at the CMO and included the others by letting the Allspark's power radiate off of her very being hostilely. "I am _not_ Cybertronian. I do _not_ abide by the same base programming. I am my own person and if I so much as catch wind of any of you trying to get high-handed with me again, so help me, I will see every one of you deactivated and brought back in bodies less than capable of movement. My body is my own and none of you will ever abuse it in such a way again, programming be damned!"

Samantha fumed for several minutes more, clenching and unclenching her fists.

_Pig-headed, chauvinistic, pea-brained assholes. All of them._

She paced when she could take it no more, determined to find a way out of this mess. She wouldn't injure herself the way she would have to in order to remove the tattoo or microchip, but she would figure something out. There was always a way out of anything.

_Nothing is foolproof,_ her mind supplied gleefully, _because fools are so very ingenious._

With an evil smile planted on her lips she settled herself in to wait. She would bide her time and then when the moment was right she would make them all pay. Punished and down she may be, but she had only begun to fight.

"Collar me like a pet, will you?" She muttered aloud, all too aware of the fact that they could hear her. They wanted to play with fire, fine. They were going to learn what it meant to be burned. She would teach them all a lesson and maybe they would learn to think before reacting purely on their _instincts_ again.

"Help me down to the floor, please?" She called out too sweetly to Jolt, her eyes attesting to the fact that she knew that he was the one that had been working on the tattoo when she'd entered the room. If he were human she was certain that he would have gulped. "I'd like to go to the mess hall to get something to eat."

"Of course." Was that nervousness she heard?

_Oh yes. Be very afraid, my metallic friend._

As soon as she was set down into the floor she began to hum the Freddy Krueger song gleefully. Skipping towards the door she was very aware of the emotional stiffening of the three mechs behind her as they comprehended what the tune was. Resisting the urge to laugh evilly she sang out over her shoulder;

"Nine, ten; never sleep again!"

If she had stayed in the room a moment longer she might have seen all three Autobots collapse into the nearest support and tamp down on their reluctant fear of the child.

"I have a feeling we're going to be joining the Well of All Sparks before we ever see the end of this War." Jolt mumbled, his Spark still pulsating from the slightly demented wave of Allspark power that had washed through the room before the tiny human had left.

The others nodded slowly, both suddenly very wary of their own futures are reconsidering their previous idea that the nanites within the girl's body were only affecting her physically.

Surely she was inheriting some of their base programming because she was acting in the exact same way any other Cybertronian might act under the same circumstances.

Retribution will be had…

By any means necessary.

* * *

**Notes:** Sorry about the extended wait everyone. Until I can afford to get a new computer I have to make due with this one and it keeps shutting off on me. I hope that you like this chapter. There are only three more chapters to go and then it'll be on to my version of Revenge of the Fallen. I should be able to pop Revenge of the Fallen out faster than this one, but I make no promises. I honestly hope that this story hasn't been disappointing to any of you.

The flashback Samantha experienced is an idea credited to **Ishgirl**, one of my faithful readers. She was the one who had given me the idea to write stories that my readers came up with according to my Transverse when they might not have the ablity or the drive to write a one-shot, but still wants to see what they had thought of written down (or cannot write it because it is a part of my Transverse and cannot be written without my permission).

Anyway, please feel free to point out any mistakes I've made and check out my Forum. I'll start working on my Forum Story in a month or so. As always, please review and refrain from insulting me our my readers with rude language. I appreciate criticism, but only when it has merit.

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Transformers.


	11. Chapter 11: Through the Looking Glass

**Chapter Eleven: Through the Looking Glass**

"Now let's have a big hand for the graduating class of 2007!" The school principal, Jessica Davis proclaimed into the microphone attached to the podium she stood behind.

Samantha blushed very faintly at the uproar in the audience. The color to her cheeks wasn't because of the excitement of the crowd nor the enthusiastic whistles of her relatives. It was all because of the roaring engines of the cars parked behind the tents, the faces of her closest friends' holoforms, and the complete elation and pride being shoved towards her through the bonds she shared with the Autobots.

As one all the seniors, now Alumni, threw their caps into the air, narrowly missing the top of the massive white tents that had been erected to shelter the graduating class and their guests from the blazing sun.

The class was directed to exit through the center aisle of the assembled guest seating and out the back of the tent. The audience stood as two-by-two the latest graduates made their ways out of the immediate spotlight. The applause was not as thundering now, but it was still loud and continuous. By coincidence or not, Samantha found herself partnered up with Mike. The two teens took each others' hands and marched on proudly. Sam kept her chin held high even as she passed her family, consisting of her mother and father, her uncle and aunt from Quebec, and the single set of grandparents left that had flown all the way out from Atlanta, Georgia to see her. It was only when she made it to the final row of attendees that she nearly faltered.

Not entirely surprising to her she had looked up from the stage where she'd stood with the other students to find that her invites had not gone unanswered. In addition to her family, she had a collection of fifteen 'family friends' cheering her on.

Standing at the very back of the assembled crowd were the thirteen holoforms of all of her Autobots friends and two not-so-strict looking military men, Epps and Lennox. In passing them, Sam did not mistake the 'good job, kid' Lennox mouthed to her or the thumbs-up Epps gave her. The 'bots all shot her looks that made her flush more furiously. It was apparent to _anyone_ that they were extremely happy for her.

Ever since the whole plane-jacking incident she had degenerated to scolding and scowling at all the Autobots for daring to push her around. It was harder to ignore them with the holoform program up and running since they were able to get even closer to her and be even more touchy-feely, but she did it. It had taken almost a full two weeks for them to concede to the fact that they had done something wrong and promise that they would _try_ not to do it again.

For a full week after that she had exacted her revenge.

…On every single one of them.

While only Ratchet, Jolt, and Beachbreak had had a hands-on approach to her 'marking' all of the others had agreed to it. She wouldn't have any of them thinking that they could treat her that way. She was still human and she would be treated as such.

The pranks she had played had been more intense, pranks that drove the mechs to distraction. Poor Ironhide had been afraid every step he took that something was going to blow up in his faceplates or cause his peds to disconnect, although she had not injured any of the others to give him that notion. She couldn't help but think that the waiting had been torture enough and when he finally woke up from a slightly forced recharge to discover his cannons loaded with mashed potatoes that it was a relief.

After everyone had been sufficiently pranked, at least to her liking even if the others found her pranks over-the-top, she had addressed them all with simmering anger. She'd informed them on no uncertain terms that if they attempted to do anything like that to her again she would not stop herself from beating the ever-loving heck out of them with the seemingly limitless power of the Allspark. As if to support her claims, her eyes had glowed from within and the Allspark had flared in a sharp, dangerous spike towards them all until they were forced to take a step backwards.

It took time, but eventually things settled down. As a consolation Samantha couldn't help but think that the tattoo was quite beautiful. The words that were attached to her leg looked a lot like the ones etched into the Bluetooth, which she still wore, but they were different in the way that they were shaped. The words on her leg were sharper, meaner looking. It hadn't taken long to realize that the words on her leg were of the language of the Primes and not their commonly shared language. She'd asked Optimus if he knew what the words meant, but even he had only known what a scant few of them had meant. Apparently the language of the Primes was so old that even Sentinel Prime hadn't been completely aware of what many of the words meant in the old language.

Her friends had all questioned why she had decided to get a tattoo on the few occasions that they could see it under her jean pants or without the cover of makeup and where they could get ones exactly like it. The tattoo was a hit for everyone. Even Mike, after a bit of concession, had agreed that the house arrest cuff, a.k.a. tattoo, could have looked worse.

The holoforms had turned out to be better and worse than she had expected as well. Yes the 'bots were a very tactile race, always seeming to need to touch her in some way, but they kept respectful boundaries between everyone they interacted with. Unless they were playing football. Sam could still remember looking on as the normal military men went up against the holoforms. It's needless to say that the humans had lost. Holoforms were undeniably strong, like Predator from Alien Versus Predator strong.

"We did it." Mike stage whispered to her as they continued their short march out the back of the tent. She beamed up at the taller teen, squeezing his hand lightly before they separated at the fringes of the tent.

Sam stood aside as her other friends came sauntering out from under the tents. Miley hurried over to her, squealing, and threw herself into her arms. She laughed and swung her and her closest female friend around and around.

"You were great!" Miley cheered as they stopped spinning and giggling. Sam blushed prettily. "Oh, don't do that. You _were_ great! Katrina was right to pass on the Valedictorian speech to you. She was great and all in the academic sense, but you were always more of a people person. You had more to bring to the speech than Kat would have."

"Oh hush."

Samantha wanted to avoid talking about her speech at all costs. She had been runner up for Valedictorian and while that title normally meant that the she could avoid having to make any speeches, Katrina Pirelli had passed the baton on to her. Kat was a shy, mousy girl, who generally kept her head down and buried in a book. Samantha knew that she wasn't completely immersed in the student activities, but she had been more knowledgeable on their class as a whole than Kat had been.

"Ohh, look!" Miley stage whispered to her, her eyes alight. "Your hunky friends are coming this way. I love that new guy. Siros. He makes me want to drool."

She turned then to see that her friend was correct. The guests for the event were all making their way to the back of the tent through the open side panels to congratulate the graduates personally. Having been in the back the entire time the 'bots were the closest to where they had exited and were making a beeline for her.

"Hey guys." She called out cheerfully, letting herself be taken up into surprisingly warm, human feeling arms. The Prime's big, brawny arms encompassed her completely, making her feel safe and loved. His affection for her stretched out across the fully opened bond. Breathing in she could even catch the scent of cologne, something she hadn't fully comprehended the holoforms being able to mimic.

Optimus set her down onto her feet before him, but kept his two big hands on her shoulders. He looked her up and down once, his eyes taking in her white-robed self, the gold and green sash over her shoulders signifying her high grades. The smile on his face would have made even George Clooney, the man that had inspired Optimus's look, green with envy.

"Well done, Samantha." His too deep voice rumbled outward, girls in her peripheral vision visibly stiffening with the attractiveness of it. "Well done."

"Nothing to it." She assured with a smirk before she found herself being passed around like a well-loved teddy bear to each and every Autobot. The last 'bot she came to was Bumblebee and inwardly she thanked every Deity she knew that the scout had decided to obtain a different holoform than what he had been using as a hologram. Samantha didn't know if she could help herself if he had been a touchable, kissable, physical manifestation of Ryan, her dream guy. As she'd promised herself so long ago, she had smacked Bumblebee silly for playing with her hormones like he had.

Bumblebee now looked mostly like Channing Tatum, except with chin-length dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and a rounder face. Looking at the few others that had obtained holoforms upon coming to Earth she saw Beachbreak's Kurt Russell look-alike form. Beachbreak made his holoform look to be in his early to mid thirties, and had changed his features so subtly that upon looking twice you might or might not think that you had just had a run-in with Kurt Russell. Longarm and Salvage were both brunettes, seeming to be in their mid to late thirties, and overly large in size and muscle mass, but that's where the similarities ended. Longarm had about an inch in height on Salvage, a dark scar running over his right eye, russet colored skin, a squarer face, and shoulder-length chestnut brown hair. Salvage had pale skin, almost Nordic in color, a buzzed head of hair, hawk-like nose, and sensually full lips. Either hologram was equally gorgeous to the female species.

Sideswipe and Knockout were both stunningly handsome in their holoforms. Knockout disguised himself as a Puerto-Rican with slightly curled black locks, thinner lips, angular brows, and a cute dimple in his right cheek. He stood at around six feet, maybe a little less. He was similar in age to Sideswipe, early twenties to mid. Sideswipe looked like an islander, though Sam couldn't place where specifically. His skin was a warm tanned color, his nose sharp, but not overly long, all topped over a pouting bottom lip. Sideswipe had an inch or two on Knockout and was a little thicker muscle wise. Knockout was more lean than anything, but still strong looking.

Each of them was dressed impeccably this day. Normally they had their own signature look, either jeans and t-shirts, army scrubs, or even leathers, but today they all wore dress slacks and button-down shirts. It was all an illusion, of course, but they were still eye-candy.

_Damn them._ She thought with a smirk.

"We're all proud of you, kid." Will cut through the barrier of Autobots and gave her a quick, brotherly hug. Rob followed quickly afterwards, his hug stronger and pulling her up off of her feet. She 'eeped' and had to brace her hands on his shoulders.

"Great speech. You kept it short and simple enough that people weren't bored to tears and yet you made sure that you kids all got due credit. You'd serve well as a politician."

"Oh, gah!" She stuck her tongue out and made a gagging gesture with her finger as soon as Rob had put her down. "Puh-lease! I'd hate to add my name into any of those rodeos they have the nerve to call political rings. They'd just corrupt me."

"Doubt it." Sideswipe snorted with a smile.

"Cheri!" The exuberant cheer from beyond the wall of holoforms caused a wide smile to crack onto her face.

"Bonjour, oncle." She beamed at the older man as he easily nudged through the crowd to stand before her. Immediately she was swept back up off of her feet and into the capable arms of her uncle, Ronald Witwicky's younger brother.

Jackson, better known as Jackie to his friends and family, resembled her father almost exactly except that even in his middle-age he had retained his six-pack and had blue eyes inherited from their mother instead of brown eyes from their father. Sam had to fight back a wince at thinking about the too slight difference in the men's ages. Poor Grandma Jean Witwicky had popped Uncle Jack out nine months to the day after Ronald was born.

Grandma and Grandpa apparently were an active couple.

_Eww!_

"Vous avez été merveilleux. Vous nous rendent tous fiers." She flushed as she was set onto her feet and held at arm's length by her shoulders so that the man could properly appraise her. She supposed that she'd just have to get used to the compliments. If he wanted to think of her as magnificent than who was she to tell him off?

"Merci." Her eyes darted around his shoulder to bring her aunt into focus. Her grin was beginning to hurt it was so wide. "Salut, Kristen. Comment-va-tu?"

"Trés bien, Cheri."

Aunt Kristen was an average looking woman, perhaps with eyes just a little too round and big for her face. Her brown hair matched her husband's almost exactly and her height was at a standard five-foot-six. While she may not have had the 'exotic beauty' that everyone claimed she and her mother, Judy, had she was pure and gorgeous on the inside. Glancing down at her slightly rounded stomach Sam got a particular glint in her eye. Her aunt and uncle had been trying for a child ever since they got married twelve years ago and it seemed like, even though Kristen was getting a little older at thirty-eight, that they were finally expecting.

"Merci de venir voir mon diplôme." Sparing a glance to a confused Mike, whom had taken Spanish with her in their Freshmen through Junior years, Sam chuckled. "I told you that you should have learned French. I just thanked them for coming to see my graduation."

"Oh."

"You must be Michael." Kristen spoke with a thick accent, a true French accent that came from speaking the language and growing up in Quebec for most of her life rather than a staged one designed to attract attention. Kristen held out a delicate hand to her friend. "I am Kristen Witwicky. It is a pleasure to meet with you. I am sorry that I was not present when you both visited on the New Year."

"That's all right." Mike assured her easily, his charming smile lighting up his entire face. It really was no wonder that the boy was popular with the ladies. "It was just nice that you even allowed us up there like that."

"It was no trouble at all." Kristen reached over and stole her husband's arm to her side so that he was forced to stand even with her. Sam smirked. Poor Uncle Jack. He was always cowed by his dear wife…and it was apparent to anyone that he'd willingly allow her to pull him right off of a cliff just so long as it made her happy.

"You kids behaved well. You're welcome back at any time." His eyes drifted to the group of men surrounding them. They settled onto the holoforms of Ironhide and the Bumper-Car twins. "The same goes for you men. It's nice to see individuals so respectful. I don't see the other one, though."

"Cameron? He couldn't make it." Sam snuck a quick peek at Bumblebee's new holoform. He'd only changed it recently so of course her uncle, who knew nothing of the Autobots or Decepticons yet, would not know that 'Cameron' actually was present.

Her parents and grandparents had made it through her crowd of admirers by that point and took their turns hugging her. Her parents smirked at Bumblebee's holoform. Since they were in the loop they knew things that her other relatives couldn't.

"She didn't do _everything_ on her own." Judith mocked affectionately. "She had a little help from her friends, here."

"Not much help, ma'am." Ironhide assured her cheerfully. "Sam's a bright kid. She din' need much if any of our help."

It was true for the most part. As ironic as it was, she sucked at Math and needed help in that coarse, but other than that she kicked butt. She'd been given Honors in most all of her classes…math being the exception of course.

_How is it that I house a beyond ancient alien source of knowledge and power and yet I still can't fully remember my times tables? I got cheated here. I just know it_.

"Well, Cheri, as a part of your graduation your aunt and I have gotten a party all set up to congratulate you and Michael. Are you up for it?" He gave her a cocked eyebrow, a challenge, and she immediately rose to it.

"Hells to the yes!" She shouted, jumping up and down ecstatically.

"And would I be welcomed to this party?" Miley queried with a hand planted firmly on her right hip.

"Oui, petite cheri!" Her uncle chuckled, automatically grasping for the smaller girl's shoulder. "Yes, Miley. Any of Sam's friends are welcome. And of course you fine gentlemen are welcome as well." He eyed the holoforms surrounding them.

"Many of us must return to our posts, but you can rest assured that the rest of us will not take lightly your offer." Optimus assured the man with a charming smile. Sam laughed outright when Skids and Mudflap flanked her on either side, one with his arm over her shoulder and the other with his arm behind her waist.

"Party-time, doll face." Skids winked at her, his staged 'accent' gone. Being dressed up as he was she was actually pleased by the change in mannerisms. The Bumper-Car Twin's rude, brash, and often times annoying dialogue would not fit in their present surroundings.

As they all made their way for the assembled menagerie of cars Sam clearly heard "it's my party and I can cry if I want to" pouring from the speakers of Bumblebee's bright, seemingly innocent form.

She broke into another fit of giggled when Miley scrunched up her face and stared at the car accusingly…

"How is it possible that you go from the scrap-heap of Camaro's to a brand-spanking new one and still have the same problems? Piece of crap if you ask me."

* * *

Samantha chucked the nearest projectile she could get her hands on, which happened to be another graduate's high-heel, towards what had to be the deafening roar of lions dueling it out for dominance. Their deep growls and roars banged mercilessly off the fringes of her shattered psyche until she thought she might cry.

"Go fight over your meat somewhere else." She croaked, her voice cracking unattractively. Inwardly she was furrowing her brows.

Why did she sound like a chain smoker that just swallowed an entire bottle of Drain-O?

The lions ceased their fighting and blissful silence descended once more. A feeling of peace washed over her and she sighed contentedly. Without the lions fighting she could hear the soft beat of a boom-box in the distance. Some song by Fergie was playing, but for the life of her she couldn't name the song. Her back was stiff upon whatever she was laying on and her right foot felt like it was submerged in a container of pudding. If she cared to think beyond the pounding in her head she might even care that cool air seemed to be coasting over her bare legs and chest.

She snarled when the lions started going back at it. Listening a bit more closely, though, she realized that the deep rumbles echoing in her head weren't from animals at all. The rumbles were actually stringing slowly together into sensible words. Since animals couldn't talk, as far as she knew anyway, there were men talking around her.

Either that or very deep-throated women.

"Will she be okay?"

"Who gave 'er tha' shit?"

"We should have been watching her better."

"She is in SO much trouble when she sobers up."

"What, by the name of Primus, happened here?"

Her personal favorite, once her foggy brain was able to decipher the words, was…

"Isn't it unnatural to find to males in a position like that?"

Sam groaned when she felt two warm, calloused hands rubbing her hair out of her face. At some point during the day her hair had come out of its long braid. She could tell because she could no longer feel the knot just at the base of her skull that the braid had been anchored to.

"Can you hear me, Sweetspark?" Ratchet's voice. She scowled at the sheer volume of his voice even as she recognized that he was not even speaking on a normal level. He was giving her his version of a whisper.

"Uh-huh." She grumbled, determined to dispel the wretched, nauseating pain in her skull.

"Sit up a bit for me, Samantha. We're taking you back to the base." She felt his hands move from her face to bracket below her shoulder blades and under her knees.

"Leave me here to die." She croaked, not caring what they wanted at all. She felt like she was dying and they were _not_ going to move her. Since she couldn't seem to summon the energy to do anything more than speak she'd just have to convince them to allow her to remain where she was.

_Wherever that is._

Someone chuckled nearby and she felt herself being hoisted up into the air. Her stomach heaved, but she refused to wretch. "This, Sweetspark, is not your final moments on Earth. Although that High Grade you drank may make you feel like that for a few days."

Her addled mind supplied the term 'drunk' easily whenever the term High Grade came into play. Sideswipe, the mech that had just spoken to her in the distance, was the one that had first taught her about the Cybertronian alcoholic beverage. It was, apparently, a very potent, pure form of Energon that worked exactly like beer might for humans.

_Am I drunk?_ She asked herself, trying to take stock of what she'd been doing that could have possibly caused her to do such a foolish thing. _I remember going to Uncle Jack's party he set up at the house after graduation, but what about between now and then?_

For the life of her, she had no idea what had happened after she'd gotten halfway through her graduation party. Peeking her eyes open just a crack she took in her moving surroundings. Benches. Picnic tables. The scent of lake water. She was at the lake.

_No clue there_.

"What happened?" She grated out, her head thundering and rolling unpleasantly with every step Ratchet's holoform took.

"We were hoping that you might be able to answer that, Sweetspark." Ratchet glared balefully down at her. "You were at your own home until three o'clock this afternoon and then you simply disappeared after going up to your room to change clothes. The tattoo and your comm. both ceased to transmit, which is not supposed physically be possible, and when several of us went upstairs to look for you you were gone.

"Only half an hour ago did your bands begin to transmit again and we came immediately to you. The only thing that any of us are positive about is that you are intoxicated and in no shape to return home."

Sam furrowed her brows angrily as she found herself set down into the back of Ratchet's terrestrial form on the gurney. She was curious why he had mimicked the gurney along with all the other tools when he'd first landed on Earth since no human was really going to be using him for transportation, but never bothered asking. It wasn't all that important anyway.

Ratchet fussed over her like a mother hen while she tried to remember what had happened when she'd gone up to her bedroom. She felt him set a semi-thick blanket over her before clicking the straps on the lower half of the gurney over her legs and the blanket so she wouldn't find herself in a heap on the floor once they got moving.

"Samantha?" It was the holoform's fingers turning her chin to face him that drew her attention away from her inner workings. "Do you know how much you were drinking?"

"Apparently enough to make me pass out and feel like I already have a hangover." She answered waspishly, slapping his hand away weakly. The back doors were still open to reveal the others sitting idly behind Ratchet…watching her. "I don't drink. At all. I could have had one or two lite beers and I'd probably still be knocked on my ass. I really don't know what happened, Ratchet." Her eyes had turned pleading and she could almost feel the tears leaking from her eyes as she stared up at his holoform. "What happened to me?"

The medic sighed morosely and swept the curtain of her hair out of her face completely. "We don't know, Sweetspark, but we will figure it out. For now, let's just get you to the base and make you feel better, hmm?"

"That sounds good." She grunted, glancing down at the hands she'd folded in her lap. Her eyes widened almost comically when she realized for the first time that she was wearing the skimpiest black bikini top she had ever seen. It scarcely covered her areoles! Her shout of "_what the fuck!_" was shut off to the rest of the world as Ratchet closed his back doors as softly as he could.

It took Ratchet several minutes, and an agreed upon mild sedative, to settle her fraying nerves. The sedative, whatever it was, was coursing through her bloodstream quickly. In under a minute she found her agitation, slight fear, and pain receding only to replaced by lethargy. Her eyes drooped to half-mast. Ratchet smiled warmly down onto her and gently stroked his hand through her hair.

"Sleep, little one. Things will be better when you wake. You will see."

She had neither the energy nor the nerve to tell him otherwise. So with a final sigh, she allowed her eyes to close and felt her consciousness drift away…this time with her permission.

* * *

"This isn't funny." She spoke into the dead space around her as she stared through the window-like apparatus before her.

She was dreaming, this much she knew. This was all too surreal and her sensations were numbed. Anything she might have felt was simply in her head and had no real affect on her physical form. She could chop off her arm if she so wished and brush aside the 'agony' of it by simply remembering that she was not actually awake.

She was in what appeared to be a black hole of sorts. There were no sounds. There was no air. There was nothing to see beyond the singular picturesque window in front of her.

Before she'd allowed herself to look through the window pane, and yes there was something there blocking her from other side of it because she'd felt hardness under her fingertips, she'd walked around and around the window. It was almost disconcerting that she could stand on either side of it and still see the same image through the stark white frame and glass. Kind of like having two flatscreen TVs back-to-back playing on the same channel. There was nothing below her feet, either, and yet she could feel the ground.

She hated dreams like this.

"It is not a dream, precisely." Sam whirled around to find a monolith approaching her. She tried not to let her eyes get too big upon seeing him. "Hello, Samantha. How are you feeling?"

"Better if I knew what the hell was going on." She stubbornly set her arms over her chest, glaring daggers at the Cybertonian coming closer to her. It seemed that he, too, was walking on the unseen floor, only his feet were several stories below her own.

"You are rather…adorable. You know this, do you not?" He queried with a mechanical grin.

"I am not adorable." She harrumphed, turning most of her back to the titan.

"Of course not."

"Who are you?" Instantly she winced from the harshness of her rude question. She was having a particularly bad day, but that was no reason to be inconsiderate to this mech, whoever he was. With a great sigh she looked into the mech's blue optics. "I'm sorry for being so short with you. It's no excuse, but I'm having a rather trying day. Regardless, I would like to know who I am sharing this dream with."

The automaton inclined his head to her regally before sauntering directly next to her so that her feet were just about even with his shoulder plates. "I am Sentinel Prime."

"Sentinel Prime?" She squeaked, looking this mech up and down.

He was bigger than Optimus, maybe even bigger than Megatron, with red, black, and silver armor. He did look old with what she might have called a beaded beard on a human. His shoulders were wide and almost sharp. Three or four layers of stacked metal above his optics made him look like he had 'bushy' eyebrows. Definitely and elderly face. The crest upon the crown of his head, though, is what made her smile. With the singular prongs coming out of each side she would have called him a Gundam from those old anime on TV.

"Aren't you dead?" She asked, not caring if the question was overly rude and invasive since she was curious.

"I am."

"I can't bring you back, you know." She eyed him up and down, trying to take him all in. "I never knew you when you were living, I don't have your body anywhere to repair it, and I have no bond with you."

The great being chuckled softly, gazing at her with only what she could assume was affection. "I do not wish to be brought back, little one. I have lived my life. I died for my people. In this I am content."

"Then what, pray-tell, are you doing in my dream?"

"Would you believe that I am here to be your guide?" At her cocked eyebrow the elderly mech laughed joyfully. It was an outright belly-laugh if she thought of him as human. "I thought not. Nevertheless, I am not here for myself. I was granted permission to speak to the human that so easily controls the descendents of Primus. It is quite an honor, actually."

"I take it you mean the Autobots?" At his hesitant nod she knew that she was missing something else, something most likely important, but decided that she would not bother trying to figure it out now. "I do not control them. Not even close. We help each other and are friends. That is all." The look he gave her, as inhuman as it was, still seemed to be chastising. She narrowly avoided ducking her head as if she was a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar.

"So," she hurriedly turned to the 'window', "what's all this about? You said it's not a dream, but it can't be real."

"It is a memory." Sentinel too let his glowing blue orbs become entranced by the scene being acted out in the window.

Sam frowned at the scene. It was her graduation party. She was talking with her parents and grandparents in the dining room while everyone else was in the back yard on her father's grass or littered throughout the kitchen or living room. She remembered this talk. Both of the couples were curious as to where she was planning to go to college and what she planned to do with her life now that she was out of high school.

"What are you speaking to them of?" She shot Sentinel a look over her shoulder before glaring at the small argument unfolding before them. She could see their lips moving, but no sound was coming from the window.

"College. Grandma and Grandpa want me to go abroad like I used to brag about doing before Mission City to perfect my dancing. Dad and Mom want me to go to some prestigious school and get a degree in business or some-such. My parents think that my dancing is good, very good actually, but they do not want me to make a living off of it. 'It's a fine hobby, but not something a young lady should rely upon for her daily expenses' my father says. My grandparents just want to see me happy and they know that when I dance I get lost in it…it's like my own little escape."

"And what are you saying to them?"

"I'm trying to tell my grandparents that I won't be continuing my dancing professionally without accidentally mentioning Cybertronians. Anonymity will be needed the older I get and I won't be able to keep dancing if I need to remain hidden. I'm also trying to tell my parents that I don't want to do something with my life that's meaningless and makes my days drag like knives across my skin. I can't do something that I'd hate for the rest of my life."

"What would you do?" The deceased Prime asked softly and she could feel his gaze upon her. She did not look at him.

"Truthfully, I'm not completely sure. Ever since the Cybertronians showed up my life has been one rollercoaster ride after another. I used to hope for something like that, but now I realize what the price is." She set her hand over her heart and fought back the few tears that wished to roll down her cheeks. "I wouldn't change what happened for the entire world, but I do wish that there weren't so many consequences for every action I take."

Breathing through her nose she watched as Optimus, his holoform being dubbed 'Orion' to civilians, came into the dining room sensing her growing agitation through the bond. He set his hand on her shoulder in comfort before speaking to her parents and grandparents.

"He's telling them that I have a good head on my shoulders and he trusts me to make good decisions with my life. Me and him were talking earlier, too. I had told him that most likely I was going to go to school and get a degree in astronomy, just for the heck of it, but me and a few of the higher-ups were working on getting me passed through a few pieces of political tape. With the Allspark funneling knowledge into my head, human and Cybertronian alike, I'm getting to become quite a vital part of team besides being a conduit. I have a few more connections than I feel entirely comfortable with."

"What do you mean?"

"In some circumstances I can make even one phone-call and somehow, someway I find my bidding done. It comes in handy when NEST needs something, but it's unnerving to have that kind of power and I'm not entirely sure how I got it. I just know that when my name is mentioned people tend to get quiet and then everyone is hurrying around to like jackrabbits. Usually the knowledge doesn't come to the forefront of my mind, though, unless I require it at the time. I think that might be because my brain would overload if I tried to access too much of the Allspark's knowledge at once."

"I see."

"Either way, Optimus wanted me to consider taking up the role of Human-Cybertronian liaison. I can't, though. I can't be their only confidant here on Earth. Others humans need to get to know them and agree to help support them. While I can help ease some of the tension, someone else has to take the reins to show that it is okay to step forward for what's right."

Sentinel, she couldn't help but think, was smirking at her. "Optimus Prime is no fool, little one. This is why he chose you for this position. You have a remarkable grasp of strategy and government."

"Nah, I'm just a devious punk." She pointed down to her tattooed ankle with a feminine finger. "See, I'm even deserving of a collar. It's just not around my neck."

"It is quite pleasing to the eye."

"Do you hear a caged canary singing because their prison was changed from whicker to copper?" She retorted a little harshly. While she had for the most part accepted the tattoo she was still furious over the way that the overprotective metal-heads thought she needed to be treated.

"Well played."

She nodded her head once, smoothly, before returning her attention to the window.

She watched the very familiar scenes from earlier in the day and provided commentary where Sentinel Prime requested it. Eventually she faded off in her explanations. At some point she'd lost track of what had happened around her. Everything faded to black. She found herself just as much of a spectator as the older mech was.

The window remained disgustingly silent as her memories progressed. At times the images seemed to speed by as if on fast forward controlled by a toddler. The sequences made little to no sense to her. She was simply forced to watch and react accordingly to what she perceived was happening.

_Why can't I just have normal dreams? Maybe flying out of the super market with angel wings that magically sprout from my back? Or going to the fair and getting stuck on the Ferris-Wheel with two giant teddy bears that keep trying to initiate conversation with me? Yeah, those kind of dreams would be welcome right about now_.

Sam scowled deeply several scenes later as her mirrored-self jerked her head upward to face the ceiling. Her eyes looked far-off…as if she were sensing something. She took note that where her copy was standing was positioned almost directly under her bedroom.

_Odd_.

"I don't get it." She said aloud, glaring at the window. "Why can't I remember any of this?" Sentinel kept his vocals silenced and watched the window critically.

No sound was audible besides her own breathing outside of the window as she watched her copy walk in a seeming-trance towards the stairwell. Bumblebee waylaid her, most likely to ask where she was going, and her copy waved her hand dismissively all the while staring up the stairs. Bee nodded, patted her shoulder, and allowed her to pass.

Her copy entered her bedroom only to stop immediately in the doorway. A remembered tingle coursed down her spine from where she watched even as gooseflesh erupted all over her copy's body. Both of them looked to the closet at the exact same moment.

"Samantha?" Sentinel's slightly worried voice was not enough to drag her from her eerie, almost recall. She honestly could not remember what she had done, but she had the feelings. She was wary, almost scared, but mostly confused. Her fingers began to tremble in time to her copy's while the twitch ticked in her eyelid. She hadn't had an episode for months! What was triggering it now?

Her copy strode smoothly, almost floating in a kind of grace that she did not believe she possessed, before settling herself in front of the closet door. She swung it open without a flourish. It took no more than several drawn-out seconds for her doppelganger to find what she was looking for.

What she pulled from the closet caused Sam's heart to literally skip a beat.

"Allspark!" Sentinel roared at her, for the first time using a title that she never wanted to hear. The call was effective, though, as she whipped her head in his direction. His blue optics were glowing with distress. "What has put so much stress on your systems?"

"It's my hoodie." She gulped, glancing back to her doppelganger. "I wore that hoodie during Mission City. See all the rips and burns in it?"

Before the old mech could address her properly her copy reached into the frayed right sleeve with manicured fingers and pulled out a slim piece of metal with her fingernails. Sam's heart sputtered uncomfortably several times before kicking into overdrive as she found herself looking at the fractured remnant of the Cube.

"Oh shit." She whispered, her hands snapping over her gaping maw.

"No!" She yelled as soon as she regained some of her senses. Her fists pounded into the window helplessly as her copy curled the shard under her fingers and into her fisted palm. "Put it down! Destroy it! No! Get rid of it you twit!"

In the next instant Sam's spine straightened to an unbearable degree as the sensation of lightning shooting through her body came to her. Her eyes were wide, almost unseeing, as she peered through the window to see a self-contained lightning storm whirling about her copy's form. Her hair, which had been in the braid, whipped with unseen wind and her pretty summer dress made a fair imitation of Marilyn Monroe's white dress over that grate. Not three seconds later the bright blue lightning condensed into a single blinding orb only to disappear completely taking her doppelganger with it.

Sam dropped to the ground beneath her feet when the window showed nothing but static. She glanced down at her right hand, the hand her doppelganger had held the Cube splinter in, and gasped at finding a faded burn mark directly in the palm of her hand. Its shape was startling similar in size to the splinter.

"Where did she – _I_ go?" She hissed out, glaring at the mechanical being standing behind her.

"I do not know."

"What was that?" She pointed an accusatory finger at the snowy window. "What just happened in there? And why can't I remember that?"

"If I am correct, which I am fairly certain I am, then you initiated a warp."

"A warp?" Sam rubbed the heels of her palms into her eye sockets to try and alleviate the lingering episode. Her eyelid still pulsed annoyingly and her fingers were quaking very gently. "As in moving from one place to another through a crack in space? Sci-fi movie stuff, right?"

"It is slightly more complex than that, but yes. You 'teleported' to a place somewhere beyond your normal reach without the aid of physical transportation."

"How?"

The ancient Prime was silent then, his great optics staring at the fritzed-out window. She could all but feel his contemplative mood and at this point she couldn't bring herself to interrupt him. She'd been on a roller-coaster ride of 'strange' since meeting the Autobots over a year ago and quite frankly she was growing tired of figuring everything out on her own. She'd take any and all help she could get at this point.

A handful of minutes later Sentinel reached his armored hand out to her to help her back to her feet. Her own hands latched onto his fingers as he pulled her upward and slightly forward. When he was certain that she could support herself he pulled his hand back to his own side.

"You know of the nanites and Allspark radiation, correct?" He questioned her softly.

"Yes."

"They are changing you. I suspect that you know this already. Your biological make-up is becoming reinforced by our technology. Fairly soon the two parts of your being will be indiscernible from each other." His head jerked towards the window. "That remaining piece of the Allspark's shell still houses enough energy to be of some value to those of our kind, but I believe that only you are able to access that power. Your signature is unique and the bulk of the Allspark's power that is channeled through you calls to what miniscule amounts of energy are still stored elsewhere.

"While I cannot guess why you warped somewhere at this point in time, it seems to me that the Allspark is beginning to establish its newest abilities within its host. A physical jolt from that shard enabled your body to respond to the commands being signaled to your brain by the Allspark itself."

"The Allspark isn't a living thing." She snapped rudely, half tempted to stomp her foot. "It doesn't have a mind of its own to control me with."

"You are partially correct." Her gaze snaked to his, her lavender eyes nearly glowing. "The Allspark was not a living thing in its prior existence, but after its shell's destruction you became its wielder. In all truth, you and the Allspark have become a single entity. The Allspark lives through you…it has gained a kind of sentience through your subconscious."

"This is nuts." Samantha groaned, her teeth clenched together tightly. "I never signed up for this!"

"None of us wished to take part in this war, little one." Sentinel spoke soothingly, the deep cadence of his voice appeasing her fraying nerves in the same way Optimus's gentle tones did. "It is unfortunate that this war has become like life to my descendants. I believe one of you humans once said 'ours is a world of nuclear giants and ethical infants. We know more about war than we know about peace, more about killing than we do about living.'"

"Omar Bradly." She murmured, her history lessons coming back to her. Or was it the Allspark funneling the appropriate knowledge into her? She neither knew nor cared at that point.

They were both startled from their conversation when the window flicked back on. Sam glared heartily at it. She might have tried to shatter the damnable thing if she thought she could.

Her copy had arrived at the lake hidden by a crop of trees. She would not have been seen by the mass of graduates and partygoers that were currently having a glorious time drinking, dancing, and monkeying around. When she strode from the tree line, her eyes still glassed-over and not seeming to focus, one of the girls from her graduating class came running over to her. The girl was oblivious as to her beyond odd entrance, but was more than ready to bring her copy into the mayhem.

The shard was absent from her hand.

The window played several snippets then instead of the entire scene. One moment she was dancing with Curtis Michaels and Janice Hendricks on the bed of Curt's pickup and the next she was in the restrooms changing into the loaned bathing suit. She snorted at that thought. The skimpy piece of clothing she'd been given barely deserved the name 'trash' let alone bathing suit.

She was even more disgusted with herself when she saw that she had, indeed, imbibed on a fair bit of alcohol. Her copy would frown every now and then and she'd feel the shadow-sensations of a severe migraine coming on. It wouldn't be more than a minute later that her copy would have a beer of some sort in her hand. Apparently she'd been trying to alleviate the pain.

"Performing a warp on your own has injured you." The Prime informed her sagely. She snuck a glance at him out of the side of her eyes. "Despite having our technology mixed within your body you are still fairly human. The human body was never meant to be able to initiate a jump through space. Your human components are trying to adapt to your Cybertronian ones, but this warp triggered a harsh reaction within your body."

"Why did I forget this?" She wondered aloud, her gaze burning holes into her misbehaving doppelganger. Really, she was acting completely out of character. Even when she made the 'bots mad she had never acted like this… "Is that even me?"

"Perhaps the warp took away some of your innate ability to remember. In truth this 'dream' is the saved data of what happened to you from the Allspark. I highly doubt that this is even _your_ memory." _Then what does that make you?_ "And yes, Samantha, that is you. It seems that you are running on a kind of 'auto pilot'. I do not know if this is because the nanites overrode your conscious self to protect your mind for the warp or the Allspark's doing. In this I am as baffled as you are."

"I don't drink." She groused, disgusted with her doppelganger…and herself apparently.

"No, but alcohol is known to deaden nerve endings and your subconscious mind knew this. You drink to relieve the pain."

"The shard's gone."

"I noticed." Sentinel's gaze was intense as he bore into her doppelganger. "It might be a wise assumption to believe that the shard, while in the space of _between_, remained there where it could not be used in the future. It is my belief that it has returned to its whole."

"I couldn't warp again." She sighed dejectedly, looking away from the window. "I don't really remember any of my thought processes during this whole escapade even though I've _seen_ what I did. I wouldn't know how to initiate another warp."

"Perhaps that is what is best. Your body is ready for such activities, but your mind is not. It could be that the Allspark is awaiting the appropriate time to download this information into your mind. It is waiting for you to be ready."

"You're doing a lot of guess-work, Mister." She cocked an eyebrow at the titan. "You're not a very good guardian if you can't tell me anything for certain." Sentinel chuckled softly…well, as softly as a being of his size could manage.

"No, I suppose that I am not, but I did correct myself earlier in our introductions. I was granted the honor of meeting you. I am as much a spectator in these matters as you are."

"So even in death you're not omnipotent? Really, that's a shame. I'd think if you were dead everything would just become clearer." Sam scratched at the bridge of her nose with her middle fingernail. The scraping felt good, familiar.

"I may be dead, youngling, but I am no more than I ever was in life." She could feel the indulgent smile he gave her. "Besides, what fun would it be to know everything? It would be like being granted an unlimited supply of currency only to find that you'd bought everything you'd wanted and more."

"Why do you all have to be so smart?" She, too, allowed a small laugh to escape her. "Sometimes I feel like the 'youngling' you all think of me as. Everything just seems to inherently come to you all."

"It does not. You must remember that even the youngest of us are older than any of your great cities. We have had much time, even in war, to ponder the universe and our lives."

"Well, at least you're not being smug about it."

They stood together in silence for a while more. The window showed the rest of Sam's evening at the lake, including her final descent into unconsciousness on an abandoned picnic table near the jungle gym. Quite frankly she was awed by how many people were congregated around the tables and playground as well as how much alcohol had been consumed that evening. It was shocking that none of Tranquility's fine officers had come to shut the party down. The lake was a _family_ place after all.

She was compelled to watch as the Autobots finally arrived into the picture. It was clear to see that they were distressed. Their holoforms were tense and she could feel the shadowed, anxious prodding through the bonds they all shared.

"Well, Monsieur Tour Guide, any ideas on why the tattoo and Bluetooth thing stopped radiating a signal? Truthfully I'd love to figure out that trick since they pretty much collared me like a dog with that."

Sentinel gawked at her for several moments before breaking out into hysterical laughter. Against her will she found her lips turning upwards with his mirth, but she did try to maintain some diplomacy.

_I'm not a child. I can act like a grown up_.

"And what, pray tell, is so funny?"

"Oh, little one, my descendants certainly have their servos full with you." At this she scowled. Sentinel's booming laughter dissolved into more appropriate, yet still insulting, chuckles. "You are not a dog, Samantha. You are simply invaluable and truly special. You'll see this soon enough."

"Human soon or Cybertronian soon?"

"Soon."

"You really are of little help to me." She huffed in annoyance as the window faded to black for the final time. "Am I going back to my body now?"

"Yes."

"Okay." She pivoted on her heel to stare straight into Sentinel's bright blue optics. She stiffened her spine out and maintained a civil demeanor. "While you're a lousy tour guide, I thank you for all the input you put in."

"The pleasure was all mine, Samantha."

Suddenly feeling bashful she looked down at the ground and then back up to the deceased prime. "Will I ever see you again?" Sentinel nodded definitively.

"Of that I have no doubt."

Samantha reached out one of her hands and she could feel Sentinel's pleasure once more. He, too, outstretched a single finger. She pumped his finger twice in mimicry of a handshake before stepping back and saluting the Prime, all the while smirking.

"Keep out of trouble, little one."

"No promises."

She grinned gently as her vision blackened around the edges until she was left alone in the dark. Moments later she felt even that awareness fading until she was fully submerged in sleep where dreams and subconscious thoughts would have no effect upon her.

Her body in the waking world hummed a little, content, as Ratchet shifted the blanket more firmly around her fragile body.

* * *

**Notes:** Howdy everyone! I got a new computer! I'm doing backflips right now. If all goes well I should be able to have the rest of 'Shooting Stars and Setting Suns' up by the end of the month. And then it's on to my version of 'Revenge of the Fallen'.

I am sorry that I've been such a neglectful author to you all. I hope that this chapter isn't too much of a let-down. There's only two more chapters and the last one will be a short one. Please review to let me know that you're still with me. If you have problems with the chapter or the story please critique. As always I ask that you be respectful to my other readers and use appropriate language.

Thanks for reading!

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Transformers.


	12. Chapter 12: Forgotten Dreams

**Chapter Twelve: Forgotten Dreams**

Samantha knew it was a dream. There were no doubts in her mind of that fact. She knew for the simple fact that she could feel the gentle hum of the bonds she shared with the Autobots within the recesses of her mind. They weren't actively pushing any feelings onto her, but they were there nonetheless. It was that presence alone that kept her from doing something foolish.

Knowing this, however, did not make the dream any less terrifying or more surreal. It was frightening in its depth, in the sheer detail it was portraying. Has she not felt the bonds she was certain that she would have done anything up to and including suicide to escape from this non-reality.

Sam ogled the mechanoid towering over her with a mixture of apprehension, dread, and a healthy sprinkling of awe that came with looking upon any like him. The mech's tall, wide frame gleamed eerily in the ultraviolet light of the room in which they occupied. His feet were disproportioned, as were his shoulders, to the rest of his admittedly formidable form. They seemed too large and cumbersome for his body, but were no-less him. Jagged, imposing spikes littered his exoframe in strategic places. They were positioned for both intimidation as well as to inflict damage. Dents and scratches peppered all over his metallic body lent to his outward dangerous appearance and attested to his days fighting in the Arenas. He stood taller than his brother, perhaps a little broader as well, but he did not appear to be much older. His body was purely masculine and oddly deathly, almost seeming to mock the skeletal human form except with more mass.

It was his optics, though, that had her pinned where she stood. The shakes, something she had not had happen to her since expelling so much Allspark energy to revive Beachbreak and the warp-dream after that, overtook her as a darkened presence shadowed her mind. Those optics, as red as her own blood, spoke loudly of what this mech had seen in his long life and all the things he would continue to see. Their intensity was unbelievable. In all honestly, she did not know whether to be frightened or awestruck.

She settled for both.

"M-megatron." She murmured in a voice akin to horror. Smug satisfaction rolled off of the Decepticon leader in waves, but also a kind of lingering affection that had her startling inwardly.

How could she feel him?

"Hello, pet." His gravelly voice rumbled almost kindly.

It was only when he reached one massive, taloned hand out for her that she took in her surroundings.

They were in what appeared to be a makeshift bedroom and office for a Cybertronian. There was a bed, better known to the Cybertronians as a berth, a kind of metallic armoire, and a desk which she presently stood upon. A few trinkets decorated the space. There was a painting, abstract and strangely alluring, to her left beside the armoire and a hanging ornamental sculpture just behind the headboard of the bed. She did not know what the sculpture was supposed to be of, but like the painting it had a certain kind of charm to it…in a creepy, almost Frankenstein-ish kind of way. A pale, almost bluish light echoed off of the drab grey walls, but it was sufficient enough to illuminate the room completely.

She was startled from her observations when a clawed hand wrapped around her body. She squealed in uncharacteristic sheepishness. Her fingers dug painfully into the metal fingers gripping her even as the desk-top vanished from beneath her feet.

"Why are you so frightened, my little one? Had we not reached a truce vorns ago?" The great automaton chuckled faintly as she was hoisted up onto the mech's shoulder. Her hands clawed for the solid strip of metal that might have been considered his ear for support. Until she was fully settled and at little to no risk of falling off Megatron kept his hand poised at her side.

"W-what's going on?" She stuttered, her eyes as wide as saucers.

_This is a dream._ She told herself. _This is just a dream and I'll wake up when my body is ready to wake up. But why am I dreaming this? What _is_ going on?_

She'd had dreams of Cybertron before. She'd had visions of what her Autobot friends had lived through. Because of the Allspark she knew much more about the Cybertronian race than she probably should and far more than she felt comfortable with for not being of their kind. It was bad enough that at graduation she'd tapped into yet another power the Allspark had decided to bestow upon her. Perhaps this, too, was yet another curse to plague her because of that thrice-damned power.

"I told you this before. We are to tour the city to see how the repairs are coming." Megatron's foreclaw, normally a more intimidating sight, gently stroked the braid hanging down her back.

"I, uh, I don't think that's a good idea." Already she was looking for a way down. She could be like a monkey when she needed to be with the Autobots. She had climbed down from their shoulders or arms before, though she was generally apprehended long before she'd reached the ground and resettled to where she'd been previously or set upon the ground.

"You will not be hurt, pet. It is your duty to see to the men now that you are here and it is their duty to see to your protection when in your presence." The grated words caused her brows to furrow, but she did not speak. She didn't dare. "Calm yourself down and when we return I will be sure to have Backlash prepare one of your treats."

_Treats?_

She didn't like this. Not at all.

Megatron, seemingly satisfied that she was not going to act up, began to stomp through the room, out of it, and into a literal maze of hallways and doorways. She clutched to his audio receptors for balance. It didn't matter how sharp they were. She didn't want to fall more than forty feet to her death…or at least to a very _long_ recovery.

Megatron passed several Cybertronians on his march and all of them bowed their heads in respect before returning to what they were doing. She shivered at a slightly unfamiliar feeling gliding across her consciousness every time they passed by a different mech. It was almost like shadows dancing across her mind and soul. It felt like somebody touching her emotionally only she did not know them and their touches were from far away. A light breeze through the treetops. They weren't bonds because bonds were stronger, more tangible and definite, but they were familiar.

_Maybe they're…maybe I'm making believe a bond? Or maybe this is a shadow of what might be?_

Her gaze focused onto the mech whose shoulder she had inadvertently claimed and scowled. Her lips pursed as she pushed outwards as she might with the Autobots and tried to feel him. She tried to see the line connecting him to her. Instead all she could do was grasp at shadows. Something was there, but then it wasn't. She felt like she was trying to touch the moon by grazing her fingers across it's reflection on a water's surface. She was succeeding, but not exactly.

"You are going to overheat your processors if you continue to stare at me thus, pet." His words jerked her from her thoughts and caused an embarrassed flush to overtake her cheeks. Her left hand, the one not gripping onto his audio receptor, brushed across her cheek in a nervous habit.

What she felt gave her pause.

Without thinking she tore her other hand away from the behemoth's silver metal to pat over her face. Air came gasping through her lungs in great haste. Her fingers skimmed over her eyelids, brows, nose, chin, lips, anything she could possibly touch. Her heartbeat accelerated at the unfamiliar planes and textures.

"Oh my God!" She cried, lurching off of the automaton's shoulder. Megatron just barely managed to catch her descending body. He attempted to return her to her perch, but she was having none of it. She fought his clawed fingers like a wildcat until he finally relinquished her completely. As soon as she'd been set onto her feet she took off at a run. She had no idea where she was going…only knew that she needed to find a reflective surface somewhere.

Megatron's treaded feet pounded swiftly after her, but she didn't care. She felt the shadows descending upon her, attempting to influence her, but they weren't real and she could block them out.

Sam ran full-out for a handful of minutes, her eyes darting from side to side looking for something, anything, which she could see herself in. Only once she'd made it out of the main corridor they had been walking in did she find what she had been seeking.

Jutting from the ground in several places, all positioned purposefully, were twenty to thirty-foot towers of reflective crystal. They were almost lavender in hue and incredibly beautiful, but she paid that no mind. She cared only that as she exited the Cybertronian sized doorway that she could see herself running for those crystalline pillars.

Her feet skidded short of the nearest pillar by at least fifteen feet when she took stock of her diminutive form, steadfastly ignoring the Decepticon towering behind her.

Projected back at her from the surface of the pillar was a woman, slight but agile looking. Her arms, waist, and legs were neatly curved. Muscle obviously hid under the gracious smoothness, but was no immediately visible outwardly like a man's hard-packed muscle would be. Her blonde hair was plated in an intricate braid which hung all the way down to her knees. Her skin literally glowed with a golden hue. Her face was mature and exotic, but scarred over her right eye making her seem almost dangerous. The scar was deep and cut all the way from her right temple, through the brow, over the right cheek bone, and down through her pouting pink lips until it stopped just to the right of the center of her chin. She wore a pale blue, one-sleeved top with a wide, long sleeve which hung past her fingertips and a pair of dark-wash jeans. Her feet were bare, the toes colored a pale purple.

Samantha stepped closer to the image of the woman and found the woman matching her steps. Her stomach sunk at the meaning behind that, but she continued undaunted. Her heart thundered in her chest even as she came to stand a single foot away from the reflection.

"No." She whispered, the woman's lips mimicking her own.

The refection, _her_ reflection, appeared to be in her early thirties…maybe not even that! Her lavender eyes glimmered with unshed tears as she took in the change to her person.

She'd grown up, certainly.

What bothered her, though, was not that she'd aged or the scar decorating her face. It was not the series of pale, star-like marks pocketed over her bared shoulder and arm nor the brightness of her skin that made her fight her body's instinctive urge to drop to her knees and cry. What made her stomach drop and her head spin was the series of metallic, pale blue veins reaching up the left side of her neck until they disappeared in her hairline behind her ear.

Her hand, shaking softly, pulled down the topmost hem of her shirt until her bare chest was revealed. The veins, it seemed, continued down until they shadowed where her heart lie beneath her breast. The veins pulsed eagerly, energy flowing through them in the form of light. With every frantic beat of her heart she could see light travel upward through the veins, over her neck, and then to the back of her head where the light sent an almost tingling sensation into the base of her skull. It was so faint she might not have noticed it if she had not been looking at her image projected before her.

The tears which she had not allowed to fall before cascaded slowly down her face as she took in the almost mechanical change to her body. Disgusted, she whipped the shirt back into place and jerked her face away from her reflection. She didn't want to see herself anymore.

"Samantha?" She studiously ignored the Decepticon's deceptively gentle voice and curled her hands into tight fists.

_Wake up_. She demanded her body. _I order you to wake up! You don't deserve this torture. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up!_

Releasing a blood-curdling scream, Sam tucked down into herself so that her knees grazed her forehead and her arms encompassed her jean-clad legs. Allspark power, seeming to sense her need even in her sleep, rose from within her and quickly thrummed just over the surface of her skin. It pulsed in time to her heartbeat and acted as a kind of blanketing shield from the world around her.

"Fleshling!"

She jerked backward forcefully, her stomach plummeting completely out of her at the menace in that tone. Pain snapped up her tailbone as her butt made contact with solid, cold, stone ground. Her eyes, now as big as bowling balls, stared up in horror at Megatron.

_This isn't…I'm not in the same dream._

She was no longer near the crystalline pillars. She was no longer on the balcony-like platform she had only briefly registered in her flight to find any type of mirror. A metallic city no longer loomed in the too-close horizon.

She now sat on the ground of a warehouse, drab, dark, and dank. The scent of sulfur water made her throat constrict with the need to vomit. The windows, sparse as they were, were discolored with rust and grime from all the metal and various debris surrounding them. This warehouse was different than the one she'd first met Bumblebee in, but it was no less frightening in her present situation…whatever that might entail.

Her horror-filled eyes glistened with unshed tears as the shakes commanded her body. She took in Megatron's form, somehow different than earlier in the dream. Perhaps his frame had changed in minute detail. Perhaps he had less scratches and dents upon his silver exoframe. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that the shadows were gone from the recesses of her mind only to be replaced by her own stark terror and the familiar, despicable loathing she had felt from the Decepticon leader back in Mission City.

"Come here, insect." The 'con ordered mechanically, a hint of avarice seeping in at the end. He sounded almost as if she were a kind of possession, one which should obey its master.

_Yeah right._

Samantha shook her head violently before lurching to her feet and running. She cared no where she was running to or even if she was running in the direction of an exit. All she knew was that so long as her legs kept carrying her in an opposite direction of where the automaton stood, she was heading in the right direction.

She had barely made it more than fifty feet when she felt something large and metallic, a hand, smash into her back with enough force to send her body catapulting over and under itself until she quite literally hit a wall. Sam groaned in pain as her head crashed first to the ground, her neck cracking uncomfortably at the angle in which her body has impacted. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that if the nanites had not been a part of her anatomy and strengthened her bones that she would have broken her neck. As it was, as soon as gravity could no longer defy itself simply for the odd circumstances in which she found herself her back, butt, and legs slapped against the concrete floor loudly.

"Gnah…" She groused, white stars exploding behind her closed eyelids.

It was then that she felt her ankle snatched up. Instinctively her fingernails clawed into the ground. A bad idea, it seemed, as she was tugged away from the wall onto more open ground and the ends of her nails tore from her fleshy fingers. A scream or agony tore itself from her throat, but it was a singular, short thing.

"Do you remember me, fleshling?" Megatron chortled sadistically, his red eyes gleaming so very cruelly by the time she'd opened her eyes. "Because I remember _you_."

Samantha attempted to rise, to move in any way possible away from the giant, but only found her wrists, upper thighs, and ankles pinned unceremoniously to the concrete floor. Megatron loomed over her, almost seeming to smile down onto her.

It was not a nice smile.

"You have something I want, _pet_." The derogatory term sent chills down her spine and made the nausea roiling in her stomach from the putrid scent of the air that much worse. The leader's head dipped closer to her prone body until everything else that was not in her peripheral vision was blocked out by him. "And when I get what I want, _you_ shall be _mine_. My pet, my fragile little pet."

A shape did appear then in her peripheral vision causing her head to pivot. What little control she had left over her tears was gone as the shape of an almost crab, shrimp-like Cybertonian scampered directly up to her, pincers clicking almost loudly in the near silence of the warehouse. Multiple, though deceptively calm looking red eyes seemed to smirk at her pinioned form.

"Ze Doctor iz in." It's nearly nasal voice proclaimed proudly…frightfully.

This time she made herself scream and made the Allspark respond. She wanted out of this Hell.

_I want to go home! Somebody, save me!_

But she did not go home.

Instead, when she opened her eyes Samantha found herself in yet another landscape. Heat blazed through her. Sweat trickled down her spine and through her bangs. Her left hand throbbed as if she had stuck her hand straight into a deep-fryer. Looking down at it she found it bandaged in what appeared to be the remnants of a shirt of some kind. The sun was blazing and light seemed to reflect off of the pale surfaces surrounding her. Her skin felt as if it was coated with dry dirt.

Gazing around she found herself in a kind of old-world village. A desert. The buildings were obviously made from a crude mix of clay, dirt, and possibly even cow dung. There were few windows, mostly just glass bottles placed carefully and precisely, while wooden shudders made up the rest. It all looked old and decrepit and she wondered briefly if anyone could possibly live here.

She was torn by her reverie, however, but the feeling of impending destruction overtaking her systems. Turning almost as if in slow motion she could see Megatron fighting in the distance. If she wasn't entirely mistaken she could have sworn that she could see pyramids.

Her shock, however, was doused summarily as a nearer Cybertronian, a Decepticon if his malevolent presence in her mind spoke correctly, turned his burning optics onto her. This one looked old. He was tall, taller than even Megatron, and seemed to be bearded and crowned. His shoulders and chest appeared to be a more concave form of Starscream's wings. A mighty staff was held in one clawed hand. She felt as if he was looking directly at her and inwardly she felt true, unadulterated fear. The same aura this Cybertronian exuded from his very soul was what she had felt many times from Megatron…exactly the same. Only this was purer, as if Megatron was only a singular breeze amidst a raging tornado.

Her instincts screamed at her to flee.

And flee she would.

Heart lurching she broke into a run, something clutched tightly in her good hand even though she had no forethought to give a damn what it was at the moment.

Explosions echoed in her ears. Dirt, dust, and sand erupted chaotically around her. Several times she felt sharp things sinking into her flesh, most likely shrapnel, but still she kept on her forward motion away from the perceived danger.

She should have known that she'd never make it.

The sound of whistling heralded her end. The shell from whatever projectile was released her way erupted upon impact with the ground no more than twenty feet behind her. The mini nuclear explosion, at least in her opinion it felt like one, and her feet were torn from under her. Her previous dream-scene of being smacked into the wall replayed itself here. Only now she had nothing but the ground to stop her forward momentum. The world spun and everything turned red as warm liquid pooled around her right eye. Pain, sheer and uninhibited, coursed through the right side of her face.

When she crashed to the ground what seemed to be hours later, the pain had blossomed elsewhere. She couldn't tell where the ache ended. No, ache wasn't the right word. Ache was too mundane for this. She felt as if her body had been broken. She felt as if she was a doll that had been played with by an especially rambunctious child and was very slowly disintegrating.

And then, as suddenly as the agony had come, she found it receding. Blessed numbness leeched into her extremities until it eventually congregated around her chest. She felt her lungs slow their intake. Her heart began to pump less frequently. Lethargy assailed her.

_Sleep_.

The voice was gentle, soft, and kindly. She found herself unwilling to ignore it in this moment. A small smile tugged at her lips when the world darkened around the edges.

_Rest_.

The bonds, though still nearly dormant in the back of her mind due to the dream, cried out in distress. They called for her. They grasped for her and tried to hold on. They fairly shuddered with the want and need to keep her.

_Let go_.

Her sight went then. She was left in total darkness even as the cold began to move in. It was almost comforting in the sweltering heat of this place. The numbness became all-encompassing until she couldn't even feel her chest rise and fall.

_Sleep. Rest. Let go_.

She could feel the chaos…the frantic panic. She could feel them trying to keep her awake. Trying to bring her to move. They were not letting her go.

_Sleep_.

Despite their best efforts to keep her Samantha felt the last of her breath leave her and the final, almost belated beat of her woebegone heart. She knew, far too late to do anything about it, that death could be far more compelling than anything she could have imagined.

And yet even when her body ceased to function she could hear them calling out to her, trying desperately to cling to any bit of her that they could. It brought tears to her eyes to hear their anguish and know that there was no way for her to give them their last wish…

…_Come back_.

* * *

She was panting when she awoke, her fingers fisted into the plush blankets cocooned around her. Hot trails of tears streaked over her flushed cheeks. Turning her head about her found herself lying in the bed of Ironhide's terrestrial disguise. Her heart slowed its dramatic rhythm as the very familiar, comforting feeling of their bonds washed over her. They were not muted. They were in the forefront of her mind and soothed her tired nerves.

The night sky glittered above her explaining the cocoon. The Autobots wanted to keep her warm in the open air. The smell of the ocean tickled her nose. Palm leaves scraped softly against each other from the wind blowing off of the warm waters. She was someplace safe.

_Diego Garcia_.

Remaining still and unmoving Samantha forced herself to think of the dream that she had just had despite the fact that unlike her other dreams this one was fading away. Since becoming the Allspark's host she'd been able to recall her dreams in vivid clarity for any amount of time after she'd awoken. She supposed that since they were memories in a way that was why she could retain all knowledge of them.

_So why is this dream fading? If it wasn't a memory, then perhaps it was my subconscious or a prediction of things to come?_

She couldn't understand the first Megatron…he had still been himself. He had radiated power, slight dementia, and arrogance, but he had not been the evil tyrant of the second scene of her dream nor of the leader she'd slaughtered in Mission City. He was…changed. He seemed kinder. Gentler. It was as if he had been possessed, though she knew not if his evil self or his righteous self was the possessed.

And then there was the old one. He had been the devil incarnate. He was the bogeyman that so many children feared. He was the one that had killed her…

A shiver of remembered pain and fear racked her spine.

"Sweetspark?"

She jolted nervously at the deep voice. A form shimmered to life at her side until Ironhide's holoform stared down at her from a kneeling position. His warm, callused hand settled onto her forehead as if judging her temperature. It was a senseless maneuver as she knew that even he, without the more advanced scans of a medic, could easily pick out her core body heat with a simple scan.

"I'm 'kay." She mumbled and closed her lavender eyes to the mech.

"You are not." His mannerisms had dropped. Once again she was reminded that they were not human. They never would be despite all their attempts to blend in. "Shall I online Ratchet?"

"No. Just a dream." She assured him. She peeked her eyes back to him and allowed a small, nearly sad smile to grace her lips. "Nothing to do about it besides go back to sleep."

"Would you like to talk about it? It sometimes helps speak your mind. Allowing thoughts and dreams to fester only worsens your mental health." Sam smirked at those words. She knew that he was correct, but she had a sneaking suspicion that voicing her concerns wouldn't really make her feel much better.

That and the dream had all but faded from her mind now. She could not remember any of it. All she could recall, no matter how vaguely, were the feelings of pain and fear.

"Go back to sleep, Ironhide. I'll see you in the morning."

She rolled onto her side so that she was no longer looking towards the holoform. She could feel his apprehension at her dropping of the subject, but knew that he would not disturb her in this. She'd made her stand and he'd honor it unless he thought that her life might be at risk.

Hours later, even when she knew that the Weapon's Specialist had slipped back into recharge she remained awake.

_What's happening to me?_

* * *

Sam awoke slowly to the feeling of one of the new 'bots coming closer to her. The Autobot, a femme named Arcee, had landed only last night just off this very shore of Diego Garcia. She'd come to the newly formed NEST base barely five hours before her landfall.

Arcee prodded tentatively through the new bond, seeking her awareness.

"I'm awake, Arcee." Peeking open her eyes she found the base form of the triplet staring down at her in the bed of Ironhide's form. She quickly shrugged off the blankets and sat up with her back to 'Hide's cab. "You picked a beautiful place to make landfall."

"Earth is a beautiful planet wherever the humans have not touched it." The femme told her gently, her tone almost seductive. "Even some of it that your kind has inhabited is lovely. Earth is different from any planet that I have been on, but no less beautiful."

She nodded slowly, her eyes raking over the gathered forms and the beach they were stationed on. Many of the Autobots were nestled within the confines of the hangars of the new base, but a few of them had remained with her here on the beach. Among the assembled were Ironhide, the Arcee triplet, Bumblebee, and Longarm.

The small island nestled in the Bermuda was majestically beautiful. She would never have suspected a base to be erected on an island so pristine. In fact she knew that the Autobots were already planning to expand their 'domain' elsewhere. As she sat in contemplation several other bases were already being erected and set up with advanced defense mechanisms. Some of them she had personal knowledge of being built because she had worked alongside General Morshower, Major Lennox, Secretary Keller, and the current liaison Andria Wright to obtain the proper permits and documentation from the government. Some were, however, a secret from every human in existence. All Optimus would tell her was that there were a select few bases being constructed in secret so that they might have some place to call home if put under duress.

Of course those few bases were also, if it came down to it, meant to be safe houses for her.

Pulling herself back from that thought she considered their current liaison. Andria Wright was an average looking woman with brown eyes and equally brown hair, but she was smart as a whip and satisfyingly capable of doing her job. Samantha felt a little guilty for being cross with the woman needing to leave her liaison position as well as any other job that might be of risk to her due to her swollen stomach. Andria was six months pregnant and showing greatly. Within a month her husband expected her at home and on bed-rest until the baby was born. While she could understand the couple's need to ensure the baby's health, as well as Andria's, she was also upset that they would once again be looking for yet another liaison between the Cybertronians and the Human race.

It had taken far too long to find Andria and Sam doubted highly that they'd find anyone as competent and unbiased as she had been.

"Are you hungry, little one?"

"Huh?" Her attention snapped readily back to the pink base form that was Arcee. "Oh, I'm fine for now. I usually don't get hungry for at least an hour after I wake up."

"Very well." Arcee nodded gracefully, happiness in her Spark.

Samantha took in Arcee's languid form appreciatively from where she leaned up against Ironhide. She was an impressive sight despite her femininity. The triplet was a single entity, she knew, simply living in three bodies. Like Cerberus, Hades great Hell Hound. Her forms were all very similar. The main triplet was the pink one while the blue and purple were kind of puppets. Their optics were smaller, more delicate looking, and framed as if by eyelids. Their facial structures were also more compact and slender lending to their womanly appearance. Their compact and comparatively leaner forms screaming sensuality. They stood upon a single wheel, much like Sideswipe, and were about the same height as Jazz. They had claimed terrestrial disguises immediately after landing, deciding that motorcycles suited them best. Knockout, too, was a motorcycle, but he was still boxier and gave off an air of male superiority.

_It's still hard to believe that they don't technically have genders_.

For the most part 'mech' and 'femme' were terms to differentiate between certain personality types of Cybertronians. The femmes were supposed to be soft, seductive, cunning, and usually the most emotional of any Cybertronian while a mech was more dominant, straight-forward, stronger, and blunt. They all shared the same ability to reproduce…two mechs could Spark a 'child' between them just as well as a mech and femme or two femmes could. Their Sparks chose who they bonded and mated with, not their 'genitalia'.

_No, wait, their Sparks technically are their genitalia. Ugh, this is just so weird. And they think humans are a backwards race! Puh-lease!_

Arcee, though a soldier, was undeniably female. She imagined that if Arcee were a human she'd be quite attractive. Model material. Men everywhere would drool over both her body and her hypnotic voice. She had one of those bedroom voices that drove men to do foolish things.

"You seem tired." The femme commented, drawing Sam out of her musings. "Did you not sleep well?"

She shrugged. "I get nightmares sometimes. The others can explain it to you better than I can. It's hard to fall back asleep after some of the dreams I have." If only she could remember the dream she had last night! Why had she forgotten it, anyway?

"Would you like to try and return to sleep now? None of us would fault you for it." She grinned up at the other female, but shook her head.

"No, I had plans for today. Besides, if I'm tired for tonight I'll sleep better when nighttime falls." With that she pushed the blankets away to stand and stretch. Already the day was beginning to show promise of warmth and beauty.

As she was raising her leg up high over her head she heard the distinct sound of an engine coming closer in the distance. She skimmed across the bonds until she found the encroaching Cybertronian.

"Sideswipe." She spoke softly, staring in the direction that he would come.

Within moments she could see the sleek silver Stingray coming straight for them. The windows were tinted so she had no idea if he was alone or not. He seemed to be going quite fast, though, and moving with a lot less control than he normally exhibited. This lent her to believe that he had a passenger that was 'driving' him.

Her assumptions were confirmed when a black-haired, beautiful woman stepped out from the driver's side once the car was brought to a full stop. Sam smirked.

"You're driving skills are atrocious." She stated casually as she hopped down from the truck bed.

"You see how well you handle a sport's car on sand," Kaminari Ishihara huffed in a self-absorbed way. Sam wasn't fooled. Kami was a smart woman and had her act together. She wasn't a snob.

"She's a sight better than you are." Sideswipe laughed as he transformed to stand in his bipedal form. "She's almost as good as any of us, actually."

"Lies. All lies." Kami waved a dismissive hand at the front-liner before looking straight at her. "We've got work to do today, girl. You ready for it?"

"Hardly." She half growled, half snorted. It wasn't a pleasant sounding combination.

"Awe, you don't want to go to the interviews?" The older woman mocked with false hurt. Her hand had risen to press over her 'wounded' heart.

_Interviews indeed_.

With Andria Wright soon departing on maternity leave it was the head NEST operatives' jobs to go through the possible candidates for the new Cybertronian-Human liaison. Despite not being a part of the military the higher-ups knew very well that it wouldn't be in their best interest to remove her from the process. None of them understood her significance in the whole scheme of things, and they never would, but they did know that if they tried to remove her from the Cybertronians seeking refuge on their planet that there would be Hell to pay.

"Not really." She finally answered. She reached back to take the blanket she'd been sleeping with to fold it up. "There's too many arrogant glitches."

"Language, Samantha." Longarm warned her sternly. Both women looked to the Ford Super Duty.

"Is he seriously telling you off?" Kami giggled as she eyed the Autobot.

"I'm still a kid to them, remember?" The older woman looked startled. "I don't curse much anyway, but when I do it gets their attentions. To them I'm still a little child. Children don't curse."

"You're eighteen."

"And how old are they?" She shot back, her eyebrow lifted delicately.

That silenced the other woman.

Sam sighed. "I don't really like it, either, but to them I am barely even a toddler. You're a child to them as well, but they can bypass that thought in their processors because in all honesty they don't care enough to treat you and every other human they meet with kid-gloves. I've known them longer than anyone else has. I know them better than any other human does. When you've lived as long as they have coming into contact with beings that have lives as short as ours is really inconsequential."

"That's…troubling." Ishihara spoke pensively, her brows furrowed.

"It's life, sweetheart." She shook her head somberly. "Tell me, what do you think you'd feel like if you raised bees for making honey? Bees have a life-span of about one year. Their importance as a whole, because you need them all to get the honey you need, is what's in your mind. Each individual bee, though? Oh no, you wouldn't grow attached to something that will die out such a short time after you've gotten it. You'll occasionally find a Queen Bee worth your attention and you'll be interested, but each individual outside of that Queen is unimportant. In a way, that's what a Cybertronian thinks like."

She was silent for a long while, feeling the warm embrace the 'bots near her were giving her as well as their slight disturbance at her summation of them. She wasn't exactly wrong.

"The human race is like a hive of working bees. Out whole is important and a few Queens will pop up every now and again, but our individual processions in life are unimportant to them. I'm not saying that they can't grow to know and care for us, but would you really want to connect yourself to someone so closely only to know that before you can blink that they will be gone? Would you be able to hurt yourself in that way?"

She knew the answer even though it was unspoken. No, she couldn't. No one could. It would be like going to a retirement home to help the elderly. You'd go in one day, help Mister or Misses Johnson crochet or reminisce on old times only to come in the next day to find that they'd passed on in their sleep. It would be torture. It would be like having your heart ripped out one piece at a time.

And, unfortunately, it was the kind of life she was going to end up living.

She was a human with a Cybertronian lifespan. She wouldn't age at some point. She would be all but immortal and have to watch as all her friends and loved ones died.

The line from the end of Stephen King's novel '_The Green Mile_' leapt unbidden to her mind. "_You'll be gone like all the others. I'll have to stay. I'll die eventually, that I'm sure. I have no illusions of immortality, but I will await your death…long before death finds me. In truth, I wish for it already_."

The words burned her to the core. They made her heart wrench with the truth in them. Looking at Kaminari she knew that she would watch the beautiful woman age day by day, maybe get married and have children, and then be forced to watch as time took its toll on her. Wrinkles, liver spots, brittleness coming into her bones, the slow slipping of her memories. And then she would see her buried in the ground when her time came. She'd cry over her friend's loss.

And she'd cry harder because she'd be forced to endure the same sick, cruel madness with anyone and everyone else in her life.

Her sorrow and distress had reached the others by then. When they attempted to push love, devotion, and security through their bonds she shut them out. She needed to deal with this pain herself. No matter how much she didn't like it this was her life now. She'd make the best of it for as long as she could.

"Sometimes you take me by surprise with your insight." Kami whispered thoughtfully.

"I surprise myself." She returned.

"Come along you two." Bumblebee spoke up, startling Kami with his true voice. She was far more used to him using SoundBits and music clips. 'Bee's doors opened soundlessly in offering. Kami nodded before taking a seat in the passenger seat.

"Guess we really should get at it. We'll stop by the Mess Hall to grab something for you to snack on before heading to the conference room." Samantha laughed jovially at this. "What?"

"I won't get the chance to even make it fifteen feet through the doorway of the Mess Hall. Ole Hatchet is cracking the whip on me about eating healthier. No, let's just stop by my room so I can grab a Fiber Bar or something. He'll throw less of a fit that way."

"Oh, whatever. Just get in and let's get going."

"And maybe I'll show you how to properly handle a well-oiled machine in the sand." She quipped as she slid into the driver's seat. Bumblebee didn't even give her a chance to put her seatbelt on before it was snapped over her shoulder and lap.

"Go for it, girlfriend."

* * *

**Notes:** Hey hey. Here's Chapter Twelve. I'm kind of giving you all hints here and her dream is very important. I hope that you all enjoyed the chapter. Only one short one to go and then you'll start to see my 'Revenge of the Fallen'. I have to pick out the right name for it, but I'll tell you what it is once this story is done. Thanks for reading and as always if you review I ask that you keep the language clean and be kind to my other readers.

Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Transformers.


	13. Chapter 13: Of the Sun, Moon, and Stars

**Chapter Thirteen: Of the Sun, Moon, and Stars**

The sun burned pleasantly at her naked skin as she lay out on the back lawn tanning. The blanket beneath her was thick and relatively plush so that even her father's beautiful, yet hard lawn wouldn't cause her back problems once she decided to stand once more.

Sam blinked lazily at the Camaro parked very near to her, though not on the manicured lawn, and wallowed in the waves of indulgent affection he was sending her way. A contented smile sat on her pink lips.

"Love you, 'Bee." She murmured, knowing that he would hear her as clearly as if she was shouting right into his audio receptors.

The radio clicked to a different station and through the open windows she heard All 4 One's '_I Can Love You Like That_' trickling through.

_I can love you like that  
I would make you my world  
Move heaven and earth if you were my girl  
I would give you my heart  
Be all that you need  
Show you you're everything that's precious to me  
If you give me a chance, I can love you like that_

She hummed happily before closing her eyes on the sun blazing across the bright yellow of his alt form. Besides the soft music, mainly acoustics, playing through Bumblebee's radio there was very little sound in the neighborhood, let alone her backyard.

She'd come out of the house more than two hours ago wearing her favorite turquois bikini to give her Autobot friend a nice wash before allowing herself to simply lay around with him as he dried and get a fresh suntan. He'd long since become completely dry in the direct rays from the hanging Sun, but she was content to remain with him and enjoy one of her few moments of peace left with him.

A pang of guilt hit her in the gut when she thought of the acceptance letter her mother had taken to waving in her 'friends' faces. "My daughter's going to Princeton!" She cheered almost constantly. She loved rubbing her daughter's upcoming success in everyone's faces. She found herself rolling her eyes at her mother's antics more often than not.

She'd received a full-blown scholarship to Princeton University. She intended to go for an Associates in Geoscience and get a MPA in Public Affairs. She had a long life ahead of her, unfortunately, and if she chose to get another major or minor, perhaps a doctorate, she could always go back. At present, however, she figured that she'd be of most help for the Autobots if she learned out to properly deal with people and knew as much about her home turf, a.k.a Earth, as she possibly could.

She didn't actually need the scholarship as she'd obtained a hefty check from the government for her help and involvement with the Cybertronians, but she didn't use the money. While she might be taking away the scholarship from another student that wouldn't be able to afford going to the prestigious college without the outside aid she thought that since she'd given the entire sum of her check to Reparations Department of NEST to make up for probable collateral damage due to the alien war she deserved the scholarship…or at least wanted it badly enough.

What was eating at her, though, was that she was going to have to tell Bumblebee and the others about the campus bylaws about no Freshmen being permitted a car on campus. In other words she would be Guardian-less.

_I _so_ don't want to have that conversation_.

She flicked her right leg upward, knowing that the tattoo was transmitting her signal on a thin, nearly undetectable frequency to all of the Autobots at regular intervals. Vitals, location, general emotion, and brainwave activity. They knew it all.

At times she hated the stupid thing. She'd been half tempted once or twice to find a knife and see if she could carve the cursed thing off of her leg, but she wouldn't do it. She couldn't. Besides being terrified of the pain she knew would be involved she also knew that if she did something so incredibly idiotic she'd find herself a permanent resident of Ratchet's medbay and have another tattoo applied to an area less reachable. Then she'd probably find herself on a very short leash, literally, and removed from her life as she knew it.

It was almost sickening to her to think of the Autobots as anything but the good guys. Yes, they were fighting for the ultimate good of Earth's people, but they were essentially the same as the Decepticons in base programming. They weren't all good…the tattoo and the way they'd placed it on her was proof of that. So was the microchip. They could be just as manipulative and underhanded as the Decepticons and that single thought is what kept her in line most of the time. She could dish out a certain amount of punishment to them, but in the end they could do so much more and so much worse to her.

Unless provoked to the fringe of sanity she doubted they would ever hurt her irrevocably, probably not even then, but it still unnerved her to know that they weren't above trying to control her if they thought it was best for her.

If Bumblebee or any of them weren't permitted on campus due to the 'no cars for Freshmen' rule she knew that there was going to be a big hissy fit. She would take the little time that she had left before school started, two weeks, to figure out how to get them to give her some breathing room.

_It's gonna be worse than pulling teeth_.

Sighing for the final time she rose to her feet and folded up the blanket sloppily. Her gaze drifted to the sedate Camaro.

"I'm going to go in now, shower, eat dinner, and then we'll go pick up Mike. The star-shower is supposed to happen right after sunset." She spoke cheerfully. She was excited to hang out with her jock friend before both of them were forced to go their separate ways until Christmas Break or even the following summer.

The radio switched off to allow the scout's voice to reach her unhindered. "I will see you soon, then, Sweetspark."

Sam's smile fell to one that was a little more wistful, somewhat sad even, as she strolled up to the driver's side door. At a gesture of her fingers the door opened for her. She sat down softly, her legs hanging out of the car, before bending forward to place a quick kiss to the Autobot insignia on the steering wheel. Shock and confusion darted over their bond.

"You're my best friend, Bumblebee." She claimed softly, her smile growing slightly warmer. "I don't know what I'd ever do without you."

She kissed the insignia again before exiting the car to enter her childhood home.

Belatedly the Camaro shifted on its axels before settling down with a hiss of hydraulics. The being's unwavering attention blazed into the fragile, yet so very special human that had won over his and every other 'bot's Spark since their arrival to the backwater planet called Earth.

A hefty sigh left his intakes as he grinned inwardly, warmth radiating through their bond.

"And I could not imagine a future for any of us without you in it, little one." His optics travelled Heavenward for just a moment, his bond opened fully to the love being bestowed upon him by the one known as Samantha Jane Witwicky.

"This, Sweetspark, is only a singular moment in your life and for each moment onward you will never be alone. You are our Sun, Moon, and stars. With you our Sun rises and sets, our moon changes, and our stars fly across the skies." Optics training back on the human woman preparing herself in the domicile he sent a burst of love so profound it caused her to gasp through the bond. "Let your own Sun set this night, little one, and we will watch it rise anew on the morrow…together."

**The End**

* * *

**Notes****:** That's it y'all. End of 'Shooting Stars and Setting Suns'. Hope you enjoyed it even if it got sketchy in certain parts. Hopefully you all will return for the next installment of my 'Revenge of the Fallen' hereby named 'Soliloquy of Fallen Stars'. Hopefully the first chapter of it will be posted within the next couple of weeks.

Bye for now!

**Disclaimer****:** I do NOT own Transformers.


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